The Story of Us
by jadeacl
Summary: Final series in the trilogy. Pacey and Joey haven't seen each other in almost twelve years. As the two of them deal with their thirtieth birthdays in different ways, a turn of events lead them closer and closer to finding each other again. How will it tur
1. After Some Time

The Story of Us  
Chapter 1  
After Some Time   
by: Jade 

* * *

**Disclaimer (applies to all other parts to follow in the series)****: _Dawson's Creek_ is property of Kevin Williamson and the companies who own it.  
  
Author's Note: I've never been to New York, I have no idea what the area surrounding Madison Square Garden looks like. Please excuse any technical errors. **

**(Afternote: April 7, 2003. Visited The Big Apple in the spring of 2000 and watched the Rangers host the Flyers; if only I could afford to live there)  
****  
Finally, the third and last series of my intended trilogy. There was _Long Ago…,_ then _This Is When It All Began… _I would appreciate it greatly if you could bestow your highly valued feedback and opinions on _The Story of Us_.  
  
Summary: Pacey and Joey haven't seen each other in almost twelve years. Unbeknownst to them both, he's recently moved into the same city. As the two of them deal with their thirtieth birthdays in different ways, one jumping into commitment and the other away from it, a turn of events lead them closer and closer to finding each other again. How will it turn out this time?**

***Please let me remind that in order to avoid being seriously confused, you should read or should have already read the previous two series ***

* * *

He was surrounded by green trees, clear skies and whitewashed villas by sandy beaches everywhere he turned. He could hear the shouts of children playing soccer some distance away and he could see his neighbors sunbathing by their pool. It was another amazing day in Costa del Sol. The Spanish sun was smiling down on him as usual and he took a breath of deep, fresh air as he prepared to go for his morning jog by the sea.  
  
His happy mood was abruptly darkened by the intrusive hissing of the telephone in the background. No one except his employer knew where he was and the latter himself was cutting off all contact with the outside world on some island in the Bahamas. He wrinkled his brows in annoyance and wondered who else could be calling him at this time of the day from Seattle.  
  
The machine continued to ring.  
  
He growled and reluctantly went in search of it…  
  
He opened his eyes with a start and found his face half-buried into a pillow. The bright red digits of his clock radio on his bedside table flickered insistently and inaccurately, taunting him to challenge it.   
  
_Shit_, he thought, _the damn storm must have caused a temporary blackout again_. His mind was certainly working a lot faster and much more politely than his mouth as he summed out what he felt in a single curse word. Even then it was mumbled and incoherent. He turned his face toward the window but he couldn't even deduce what time of the day it was since it looked as dark as it did the night before.  
  
He soon began to realize that the buzzing in his ear and the drumming in his head wasn't part of his imagination either. Grasping at thin air before he finally found the receiver, he had already knocked over his watch and his glasses before he muttered a rude greeting into it.  
  
"This'd better be good," he warned.  
  
The voice was young and desperate. "Pacey, we need you here. I've submitted the changed plans but the contractor won't proceed until he meets with you."  
  
"Dennis, there's a reason why I stay home on my days off! I left you in charge, deal with it!"  
  
Dennis begged some more and insisted he couldn't deal with a dozen people screaming into his ear at the same time.   
  
Pacey sat up in bed, which turned out to be a mistake as his head continued to pound from the recesses of a hangover. "Shit."  
  
"Well?" Dennis asked again, almost in prayer.  
  
He closed his eyes to stop the room from swimming. "Tell them to keep their pants on. I'll be there in an hour."  
  
"Thank you!"  
  
"Aww," he replied in reflex as the booming voice on the other line aggravated his headache. "What the hell is the time anyway?"  
  
"It's nine."  
  
"Fantastic," he said with little enthusiasm and then he hung up. For the millionth time since college, he wondered why he chose to spend the last ten years of his life studying and struggling to become what he was today, that by the time he had actually reached the pinnacle of his career, he was exhausted.  
  
"Because you secretly love it. The wages, the long hours - what better to hide behind than an independent, busy facade?" his last girlfriend had told him in a huff after he'd missed yet another one of their dates.  
  
Something moved behind him and he opened his eyes sharply. Looking back tentatively, he saw a lump beneath his sheets and a slim leg that was showing.  
  
"Oh shit."  
  
The brunette stuck her head out in a sleepy state. "What happened?"  
  
He stood up in his boxers and made for the bathroom. "They need me at work. A problem at the site."  
  
"Pacey, you promised to meet my parents for lunch."   
  
"I know," he said. "This won't take long. I'll be there."  
  
"I've heard that one before."  
  
He showed his head for a brief second from the doorway. "Lucy, I'll be there."  
  
"You'd better be." She propped herself up against the headboard. "My parents aren't very forgiving people."  
  
"So, I've heard." His voice was slightly drowned out by the running tap and she asked him to repeat himself.  
  
"Nothing," he said. "Could you go get the newspaper?"  
  
She crossed her arms at the change of subject.  
  
"Please," he pleaded, sticking his head out again, electric shaver in hand.  
  
She grudgingly got to her feet and went downstairs, to which he breathed a huge sigh of relief.  
  
"I heard you!"  
  
"I know!" he shouted back.

* * *

_Three months later_  
  
"Hey, my favorite girl in the world!" He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.   
  
"Don't you try to talk your way out of this," she insisted. "I've just gone through 18 hours of labor and I deserve an explanation."  
  
He looked to the other man in the room for help but the latter shrugged his shoulders in ignorance.  
  
"Come on, Lee."  
  
"Don't 'come on, Lee' me. What happened with Lucy?"  
  
"She decided she liked someone else more. What can I say?"  
  
Ashley Witter-Satchell moved forward slightly to allow her husband, Nick, to fluff her pillow before leaning back to settle more comfortably.  
  
"You really can't keep doing this. Pretty soon, all the good ones will be taken and you'll be left with _no one_."  
  
He raised an eyebrow. "You sound like a mother," he grumbled.  
  
"Good," she replied. "Because I _am_ one."  
  
As if on cue, a trail of boisterous cries that could only come from a group of hyperactive boys came down the corridor toward the room.  
  
"Uncle Pacey!" The smallest of the three leapt excitedly into his arms and giggled happily as he was swung onto his uncle's shoulders. The other two were just as excited at seeing him and grabbed on to each of his legs.  
  
"Look Mommy, I can touch the ceiling!" Five-year-old Mikey pointed out proudly from his current position on the top of his world.  
  
"Uncle Pacey, how long are you going to be in New York?"   
  
"You promised we could go play baseball in the park the next time you were in town."  
  
Nick put his hands out to stop the commotion. "Boys, one question at a time. Your uncle only arrived three hours ago. Let him catch his breath."  
  
"I'm fine," he said, pinching his nephews' cheeks with his free hand. "These kids _can't_ tire me out. Right?"  
  
"Right!" they all agreed.  
  
"Besides, didn't I mention I was going to be in New York for awhile?"  
  
"Here to supervise another project?" Nick asked.  
  
"It might be a little more permanent than that."  
  
"What?" His sister's ears perked up.   
  
"I flew in for an interview." He put Mikey down on the bed with his mother and held out his hands to ward off any comments. "_Before_ you complain that I never tell you anything unless you force it out of me, I was all prepared to break the news when I paid you a visit this morning, only to be told by your neighbor that you had suddenly gone into labor. You always had great timing, Sis."  
  
She rolled her eyes at his smart-ass remark.  
  
"When's the interview?"  
  
"Tomorrow," he told his brother-in-law. "After which they have until Friday to let me know."  
  
"That's fantastic," The latter slapped his shoulder. "Right?"  
  
"Yeah, I guess." He shrugged in his usual non-committal stance. "Seattle was starting to become boring."  
  
"Pacey," Ashley began to nag again. "Congratulations, you're the proud owner of the shortest attention span I know of."  
  
"For once, you may be wrong there," he disagreed as he looked pointedly at the two boys who were wrestling each other playfully.  
  
Eleven-year-old Eric was Nick's child from a previous marriage and Eric was only three when his mother walked out on them. Nick met Ashley in Los Angeles on business where she had graduated from college and went on to start a career and later gave it all up to move to New York to be with him and his son, whom she grew to regard as her own. Eric felt the same and called her Mom. One year later, Nick proposed and they were married in a private ceremony.   
  
Six-year-old Patrick was the first result borne out of that love. One and a half years later, Michael followed.  
  
He smiled as the nurse interrupted his thoughts, carrying their new bundle of joy in her arms.   
  
"Mommy, she's so small." Mikey tentatively touched his new sister's fingers and she yawned in return.  
  
"D'uh," Patrick replied. "They're always this small." But one could tell that he was just as fascinated as his brother.  
  
"Thank goodness it's a girl," Ashley said, sniffling. "Otherwise, we might have to keep trying."  
  
"Well I certainly hope we don't stop anyway," Nick teased.  
  
"Ah," Pacey backed away slightly. "Please, people. Tender ears over here," he said, indicating his own.  
  
"Oh quiet, Pacey," she said, half-laughing, half-crying.  
  
He grinned at the sight of the family before him and then allowed himself to feel a momentary wave of loneliness and self-pity. He straightened up and made a move to allow them some family time on their own.  
  
"Got to go, Lee." He reached for her hand. "I'll come by again tomorrow and let you know how it went."  
  
"You'd better."  
  
He gave her a mock salute. "Yes, ma'am." Turning to Nick, he asked, "Anything I can do for you guys?"  
  
"We'll let you know."  
  
He was nearly out the door after high-fiving his nephews when he was called back.   
  
"Pacey, actually there's something you could do for us…"

* * *

"Eric, take your brother's hand. I don't want either of you wandering off on your own."  
  
They spent thirty minutes looking for a lot before they finally found one two blocks away. It wasn't bad, considering the massive crowd outside Madison Square Garden they were contributing to that night.   
  
"How on earth did your Dad get tickets to a Rangers-Leafs game?" he asked in awe.  
  
"He knows someone who knows someone who knows someone else-"  
  
"Okay," he interrupted Eric. "You know what? I don't even want to know." He put Mikey down, as his shoulders were getting tired. "I'm just going to enjoy it while it lasts."  
  
They were soon immersed in the atmosphere of the vocal crowd and lost no time in settling comfortably to begin to enjoy the next 60 minutes of the game.  
  


*****

"60 minutes of toothless men with manly sticks, pushing one another head-first into plexi-glass…hmm…heaven."  
  
The man on her right stared at her in annoyance as though she had just insulted his wife…or car, depending on whichever was dearer.  
  
"Oops," she muttered, without much remorse.  
  
Her fiancé was wheezing his way through a line of outstretched legs, juggling hotdogs and sodas.  
  
"Isn't this great?" he asked, sitting down and handing over her share of dinner.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"I knew it. We should have gone to the recital."  
  
"I'm kidding." She laughed. "Are you crazy? The only thing worse than having to sit through three hours of Mozart is sitting through three periods of ice hockey. There'd better not be overtime."  
  
He sighed and rolled his eyes. She laughed some more.  
  
He smiled as he always did when she laughed and her face lit up, sending little crinkles around the corners of her eyes. Leaning over, he kissed her squarely on the mouth.  
  
"What was that for?" she teased.  
  
"Just for being you, Josie."  
  
She growled at the name and this time, it was his turn to laugh.   
  


*****

"Hey man, you mind keeping an eye on these boys while I take the little one to the loo?"  
  
Mikey was jumping up and down, trying to delay his bladder for as long as he could before it burst. "Uncle Pacey," he hurried him.  
  
The two men with their girlfriends looked decent enough to be left alone with kids. Besides, he knew Eric and Patrick would yell the arena down before going anywhere where they weren't supposed to be with a stranger. Ashley had taught them well.  
  
One of the women looked sympathetically at Mikey, who was tugging desperately at his pants. "No problem."  
  
They ran up the stairs and as he batted an eyelid at the queue outside the ladies' room, Mikey headed for the gents' without so much as a glance at anything else but getting through the door onto the other side. Pacey quickly followed after him.  
  


*****

"The line's not moving," he noted.  
  
"Great detection, Sherlock."  
  
"Come on," he said, holding on to her elbow as they made their way through the crowd.  
  
"Where are we going?"  
  
"It's time to make use of my father's name around here."  
  
She raised her brow in question.  
  
"To the box seats. We're going to use the restrooms upstairs."   
  


*****

"Come on, Patrick."  
  
"Uncle Pacey told us to stay here."  
  
"We'll be back before him. He's not going to know."  
  
"I don't think we should."  
  
"I'm hungry again. Come on!"  
  
Without waiting for his answer, he started to make his way to the snack bars.  
  
"Eric!" Patrick was torn between staying and following his brother and he finally did the latter.  
  
The quartet sitting above them didn't even notice that the boys had left.  
  
Eric was so bent on following the source of the smell of food that he didn't realize that his brother was having a hard time catching up with him. By the time he neared the snack bar and turned around to ask his brother what he wanted, Patrick was out of sight.  
  


*****

"I'm not going to cry. I'm not going to cry," he repeated to himself. Hoisting himself on a ledge he could reach, he tried to find Eric but there were just too many people.  
  
"Okay, I'm going to cry. I'm going to cry." His eyes turned red and he was sure he was going to embarrass himself when he heard a kind voice.  
  
"Are you lost?"  
  
He momentarily forgot his fear as he stared up at her, mouth opened. She was the prettiest girl he had ever seen.  
  
She lowered herself to his height and smiled. "What's your name?" she asked.  
  
"Patrick."   
  
"Hi Patrick, I'm Joey."  
  
"Joey? Like a guy?"  
  
She smiled. "No, not like a guy. It's short for Josephine."  
  
He nodded and then he remembered his predicament and scrounged his face up. "My uncle will be so mad when he finds out. We weren't supposed to wander off."  
  
"We?"  
  
"My brother's somewhere here."  
  
"Do you remember your seat number?"  
  
He shook his head and he started rubbing at his eyes again.  
  
"It's okay," she reassured. She searched for Greg but figured he must have been separated from her too. Oh well, she'll just see him back at their seats. "Come on," she said, taking his hand in hers. "Let's get you back and I promise your uncle isn't going to be mad. He'll probably be more relieved than anything else."  
  


*****

Eric paused in his step and a wave of panic engulfed him. He had just spotted his uncle and Mikey in the queue at the bar and quickly retreated into a corner before they saw him.   
  
_I am in such trouble_, he thought.  
  
Running back to the area they had come from, his eyes searched for Patrick's head of distinct blond hair. He was about to give up when he saw his brother. At first, he thought he had it wrong but then the clothes and hair matched even if the tall lady in the white dress didn't.  
  
"Patrick," he cried out.  
  
"Eric!" His younger brother let go of the woman's hand and ran to him.   
  
Eric wrapped his arms around his Patrick. "Boy, you scared me!"  
  
"You were running so fast."  
  
The woman approached and brotherly instinct took over as he cautiously eyed her. Girls, especially the pretty ones, were dangerous - just like Jenny Gardner who kept following him around in school.  
  
"Eric, I presume."  
  
He nodded.  
  
"Patrick, you're all right now. Better get back to your seats before your uncle goes to the police."  
  
He suddenly remembered and started dragging his brother. "I saw them at the hot dog stand. We still have time before they get back."  
  
"Slow down, Eric."  
  
"We have to hurry!"  
  
Patrick looked back for a quick second and waved to Joey, who was regarding them with amusement. She waved back and watched them disappear back into the arena before glancing at her watch. She'd better find her own way back before Greg got worried.  
  


*****

They managed to collapse into their seats panting just before Mikey came down the stairs to their row in his childish gait.   
  
"Uncle Pacey got us food." He took in his brothers' disheveled state and stuck his lower lip out in curiosity. "You guys are sweating."  
  
Eric immediately covered his mouth with his hand. "Shhh, don't say anything."  
  
"You know you'll have to bribe him with something," Patrick helpfully contributed.  
  
"Thank you very much," Eric replied sarcastically.   
  
Mikey mumbled something against the latter's palm.   
  
"What?" He moved his hand away.  
  
"'I want to learn to ride on your new bike."  
  
"No way. Besides you're too small."  
  
"Uncle Pa-!" He was stopped by the hand again.  
  
"Okay, okay," Eric relented. "Just make sure you ask Mom first."  
  
Mikey giggled in delight.  
  
"What's so funny?" Pacey asked as he slid into his chair and held out the food he was carrying.  
  
"Nothing," Patrick insisted with a little too much zest.  
  
His uncle looked at them warily but they were spared from further interrogation by the start of the third period.   
  


*****

"Where have you been?"  
  
"I bumped into this kid who was lost. We went looking for his brother."  
  
"The regular Samaritan."  
  
"I had to." She smiled slightly poignantly. "He looked exactly like a baby photo of a friend from high school." She paused. "Except this kid had really light hair."  
  
"Who, this Dawson you talk about?"  
  
"No, just…" she paused, not sure how to continue. "…just someone I knew." Fortunately, Greg was too pre-occupied with cheering for the home team to notice her change in manner, which gave her opportunity to redeem herself.  
  
"If your father knows the people who can get you box seats, why aren't we there right now?" she questioned in jest.  
  
He made a face. "Socialize with those rich hypocrites and miss all the fun down _here_? You're nuts."  
  
"You know, I don't have to remind you that you _are_ one of them."  
  
"No I'm not. I dropped down the social ladder when I became a lowly ER doctor."  
  
She laughed. It still struck her as extremely strange to find herself engaged to a man whose family background embodied all that she had been against for as long as she could remember. She met Gregory Daniel Davenport two years ago, thanks to her then-roommate and old friend from college, Daphne who took a fall and caused a wound on her forehead that required stitches. She had to take her to the emergency room at 1 in the morning in rumpled clothes and terrible hair. As it turned out, Greg was on duty that night. She had been too busy running her current work project through her head to notice the cute doctor that Daphne kept harping on about in the car until she received a call from him at home the next evening.  
  
"Who did you say you were again?"  
  
"Greg Davenport. I was the doctor who stitched up your friend in the ER this morning."  
  
"So you're looking for Daphne then. She's not here-"  
  
"I was looking for her roommate, Joey. If that's you, of course."  
  
"Yes," she replied tentatively. "That would be me."  
  
He finally convinced her he wasn't a psychopath and that he happened to like the look of her and just wanted to have a cup of coffee to see if they got along.   
  
"No strings attached," he promised.  
  
"All right," she agreed, "but we meet at a neutral venue."  
  
They ended up at the diner opposite the hospital. He had been fifteen minutes late and she was beginning to think that she was a victim of a practical joke when this tall, dark-haired man stumbled in, struggling into the sleeves of his jacket as he frantically looked around the place for his company.  
  
At first, she didn't think it would be him but as he headed her way, she started to mentally dissect him. From afar, he looked too casual, his white shirt untucked and crumpled, his pants creased and his hair rumpled. But what could you expect after a 36-hour shift with an hour of sleep during it, she later learned. It was more than that though. He had an air about him that seemed so…carefree she didn't think he could be a doctor. He wouldn't have been able to survive in such a depressing environment with such an attitude.  
  
But she was wrong and this time round, she paid attention.  
  
When he slid into the booth opposite her, she also realized that up close, he was an incredibly good-looking man. He had the most aristocratic nose she had ever seen as well.  
  
And she told him that.  
  
He raised his brow. "Great way to start a conversation."   
  
"I'm sorry," she said, slightly reddened. "I'm sure I'm not the first person to tell you that."  
  
He shrugged. "Actually, you're not."  
  
It turned out they did get along and it took her a month to admit that they were dating exclusively. It was even more amazing to her that she didn't run after meeting his parents. His father was a pessimist and his mother, a cynic but they were two of the most down-to-earth people she knew. She wasn't exactly stunned to find out that he was the son of one of the nation's fifty richest men - he reflected country club upbringing even if he constantly denied it in favor of a more rugged outdoor look and as for his inclination to tell the truth-  
  
"Hey referee!" Greg stood up and yelled as the man with the whistle made a decision he didn't agree with. "Did you leave your impartiality back home with your eye glasses?"  
  
-she didn't even want to go there. The man couldn't lie to save his life, much less insult in simpler words.  
  
"That is why I couldn't become a politician or a lawyer," he had told her once. "I couldn't keep a straight face."  
  
Sometimes, she wondered if he had been adopted and he confessed that the thought crossed his mind more than once. Unfortunately, his mother most reassuringly told him that she still had the weight left from her one and only pregnancy to prove that he wasn't, plus the fact that physically, he resembled his father down to a tee.  
  
She supposed it was her ticking biological clock that induced her to accept his proposal of marriage and move in with him. Recently, she had become quite uncomfortable with the knowledge that she and Greg got along _too_ well.  
  
"You're just looking for conflict," Daphne had said before.  
  
"Could you not play the shrink with me?"  
  
"I'm not. I'm just stating the obvious."  
  
"And that's not what you do?"  
  
"No, that's why we get paid to _analyze_. Since this is obvious, I'll charge you nothing."  
  
She had thrown a cushion at Daphne that hit her squarely in the face.

* * *

They were walking arm around arm after the game when she saw that small head of blond hair again. He was holding on to Eric who was talking to a man beside him and whom had a child by his other side. She could only guess he was their uncle. She smiled at the sight of the obvious affection between them despite the bantering that was taking place.  
  
She was too far to see or hear them properly.  
  
"Eric, Mikey just let it slipped that you two went gallivanting when I told you not to."  
  
"Uncle Pacey, it was only because I was hungry."  
  
Patrick remained silent. He didn't think that it was a good idea to let it become public knowledge that his brother had lost him as well.  
  
"At least you didn't deny it," Pacey said. "Next time you think about doing that, you think of me angry. Got it?"  
  
"Got it," he muttered.  
  
Pacey hated reprimanding children, especially since he remembered all too well what he was like at eleven. Frankly, he thought he had been a lot worse at that age but being an adult meant new responsibilities and although he didn't quite embrace the ones concerning girlfriends and marriage, his nephews were of the utmost importance to him.  
  
"Okay, let's get you guys home."   
  
Mikey and Eric exchanged faces and stuck out tongues at each other behind Pacey's back. "The deal's off. You can't ride my bike since you told," Eric insisted.  
  
"But I didn't mean to. It just came out," Mikey said in defense.  
  
Patrick got bored and he started to focus on the crowds of people instead of his brothers' silly squabble. Turning his head slightly to his right, he was delighted to see Joey. She waved and he waved back delightedly.   
  
"Is that the little boy?" Greg asked.  
  
"Yes. Cute, isn't he?"  
  
"Want one of your own?"  
  
"What?"  
  
He steered her toward their car. "We've never talked about starting a family…"

* * *

  
_Please send feedback! _

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* * *

_


	2. Family Ties

The Story of Us  
Chapter 2  
Family Ties   
by: Jade 

* * *

**Author's rambling****: Christmas shopping is such a chore…Happy Holidays, everyone! **

* * *

The only thing that scared him more than girlfriends who wanted to get _serious_ was his fear of babies. Which seemed fairly ridiculous to his sister, who was trying to coax him into holding her newborn.  
  
"You're going to regret this when I drop her," he said, gritting his teeth as she carefully transferred the baby into his arms. "You know that this is why I stayed away until the boys were old enough to pick themselves off the floor, right?"  
  
Clearly ignoring his protest, she said, "Just support her head."  
  
The little one yawned and wrapped her tiny fist around his finger. Apprehension turned to rapture.  
  
Ashley noted the expression on his face. "All you have to do is find the right girl, you know."  
  
"What's that?" he asked distractedly.  
  
"Step one to starting a family."  
  
He handed the baby back to his sister. "You of all people should know how tough it is to be a parent and I'm definitely not ready for that."  
  
She gave him a long, thoughtful look.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Mom wants to know if you'll go home for Christmas."  
  
He released a sigh. "Somehow, I knew this was coming."  
  
"You haven't spoken to them in ages."  
  
"I just called Mom last week," he said defensively.  
  
"The only person you spoke to was the _machine_."  
  
"Yeah, so I left a message. That is what it's for."  
  
"Pacey," she chided.  
  
"I hate it when you use that tone."  
  
"Then stop evading the issue."  
  
He threw his hands up in the air. "Why do we _always_ have to talk about this?"  
  
She leaned over to put the baby back into its hospital cot before continuing. "_Because_ Mom and Dad keep asking me questions about you and I'm tired of being the go-between."  
  
He kneaded his temples. "I'm sorry. I'll call them later, okay?"  
  
She nodded.  
  
They waited for each other to speak but when neither of them did, he cocked an eyebrow.   
  
"This is usually the part where you change the subject," she explained her silence. "I'm waiting."  
  
Pacey kept his wry smile from showing. He had to give his sister credit.  
  
"So, have you and Nick thought up a name for the baby yet?"  
  
"We're thinking of Hannah Marie Satchell. Hannah was Nick's grandmother's name."  
  
"Hannah," he repeated. "Sounds good to me." He walked over to the cart and touched the baby's cheek lightly. "Hey, Hannah. You're going to grow up so beautiful, you'll have boys lining up on your doorstep to take you to the prom."  
  
"Tell that to her protective father," Ashley joked.  
  
"I take it back. Before any of them gets to take you out, they'll have to go through your protective uncle, as well as your father."  
  
His sister rolled her eyes and shook her head but she couldn't keep the smile from spreading across her face. As she watched her brother make faces to entertain her daughter, she was reminded by something her mother had once mentioned.  
  
"Didn't you use to baby-sit for the Potters?"  
  
His hand stopped in mid-air. The change in his stance didn't escape her notice and she straightened up in curiosity.  
  
"It was just a couple of times," he finally said.  
  
Ashley crinkled her face in confusion but this time, she didn't push for answers. She read her brother well and this subject was a touchy one, although she couldn't quite begin to understand why. Pacey never talked about his high school years. As she had anticipated, he did what was most instinctive to him.  
  
"It's late. I'd better go."

* * *

"Dr. Davenport, you ready to go?"  
  
He looked back at the cheerful face that had popped round the half-drawn curtain, behind which he was treating a patient.  
  
He glanced at his watch. "You're going to hate me."  
  
"What now?"  
  
"I promised to cover for Evans until he got here. He had to pick his kid up from a Little League game. Forty-five minutes the most."  
  
She started to move toward the elevators even before he had finished his sentence.  
  
"He promised," he called out.  
  
"I'll wait for you in the cafeteria," she said, without looking back.  
  
Greg returned reluctantly to his patient. He would have to beg for forgiveness later, like he always did. And she'd forgive him, like she always did.  
  


*****

"Argh," he muttered impatiently as he pressed the button again. "What is it with elevators when you need them?" He pushed the door to the stairs, ready to jog down eight floors when one of them lighted up at 8 and sounded.   
  
"Hold it please!"  
  


*****

She was considering taking the stairs when one of the elevators opened. She quickly stepped around the nurses who were pushing a bed out and managed to squeeze past them before the doors closed hurriedly to continue on its way.  
  


*****

He hadn't intended to stop at the second floor but as he caught sight of the signs for the restrooms and the telephones, he remembered his earlier promise to his sister. He exited before he could change his mind.  
  
But that was exactly what happened halfway through the cafeteria. He retreated to the stairway around the corner from the vending machines for his escape.   
  


*****

"Hey Joey, waiting for Greg again?"  
  
"What else?" She slotted the coins into the machine and made her choice of coffee with her knuckle. "How have you been?"  
  
"Pretty much the same."   
  
Joey took her cup of coffee out from the machine and regarded Diane Jenkins, a colleague of Greg's. "But married, right?" she teased.  
  
Diane grinned and showed off her left hand.  
  
"That's a beautiful ring."  
  
"It can't compare to this _beauty_," Diane said in return as she glimpsed the sparkle from Joey's hand and brought it closer to her face for a look. "This would have cost my husband his entire life savings." The ring wasn't large, for she hated to attract unnecessary attention to herself but the twenty-four-carat gold band was delicately set with several tiny diamonds surrounding a larger one in the center.  
  
She laughed and took a sip of her coffee.  
  
"When's the big day?"  
  
She paused at the question. "We haven't exactly decided. In the spring, maybe."

* * *

He tossed his outer coat over the chair as he entered his sponsored hotel room. Taking off his jacket and then dumping it on the bed, he loosened his tie as he went to pour himself a glass of water. He took a gulp and rested his hip against the table while he watched the telephone.   
  
"Damn it," he mumbled. He walked over and sat down on the bed. Putting down the glass, he reached for the receiver and dialed for an outside line, then punched in more numbers and waited for the connection.  
  
It was picked up on the third ring.  
  
"Hello."  
  
He kept silent.  
  
"Hello?" came the voice again.  
  
"Hi, Mom."  
  
"Pacey?"  
  
"It's me."  
  
She let out a cry of delighted surprise. "Hi honey, I'm glad you called."  
  
"How's Pop?"  
  
"He's good. He should be home any minute now."  
  
"Hmm."  
  
"Will you be coming home for Christmas? We've missed you the last two years."  
  
"I don't know yet, Mom. I'll have to wait to see if I get this job and it'll go from there."  
  
"Ashley told me about it. How did the interview go?"  
  
"Not bad. I wouldn't mind being in New York, with Lee and the kids close by."  
  
"I'm glad."  
  
"Me too."  
  
"I really hope you can make it."  
  
"I'll try," he said. "I'll call again soon, okay?"  
  
"I love you."  
  
"Love you too. Bye."  
  
He slowly replaced the receiver and distractedly massaged the muscles in his neck.   
  
His parents had told him what he wanted to know and after that day, neither of them ever spoke of it again. He wasn't out to punish them as they probably thought sometimes. It was just a constant struggle for him to try to remember that the truth didn't have to change things between them.

* * *

"As you all know, Gary Branden would prove an extremely important client if he decides that our firm should design the first of his new chain of restaurants in New York." David Jameson leaned closer forward, hands resting on the conference table in order to emphasize his point. "I want my best people on this job and you'll have to come up with a draft by Friday next week."  
  
There were waves of protest.  
  
"This is not negotiable. We don't want to lose this contract to our rivals."  
  
"But we've got the Spencer and GN works going on. We can't handle three projects in such a rush," one of the ten employees of Easton International brought up.  
  
"The thing now is to humor the client and to _sell_ the idea across. Everyone in the business knows that Branden doesn't care for what looks impressive on paper and as long as he likes what he hears, we're in." Jameson continued to speak without taking a breath. "Pacey, I want you to head the project, with Barry and Jessie on your team.   
  
The newest member of the firm raised his eyebrow in surprise, at being given a relatively huge responsibility in just his second week of work. He perused the other people in the room and asked cautiously, "Are you sure you'd rather not give it to someone else?"  
  
"I hired you based on your performance. If what I've heard about your work in Seattle is accurate, this shouldn't be a problem for you," Jameson directed at him. He pointedly regarded his staff as he added, "I've made a decision. It's _final_."  
  
No one said a word.  
  
"All right, if there are no more questions, the meeting is over."   
  
Chairs backed out on their wheels across the carpeted floor and people hurried back to their work to meet their deadlines. In this industry, there was little time to waste.  
  
"Pacey, you stay. Barry and Jessie too."  
  
After the last person had left the room and the door was closed behind him, Jameson began to fill them in on their new client and his plans.

* * *

After dinner, they were invited to a club to have a couple of drinks as Pacey went on to explain the ideas he had been poring over the last eight days.  
  
Jessie leaned toward him. "I told my husband this wouldn't take too long," she whispered, indicating her watch.  
  
Pacey looked at his own and noted the time. "You go ahead. Barry and I will handle it."  
  
'Thanks," she said gratefully. Turning to their client and his associate, she excused herself. "Gentlemen, thank you for a wonderful time but I really have to be on my way. My husband and my son are waiting for me at home." She began to stand up.  
  
"Oh, of course. How thoughtless of us." Gary Branden, a distinguished-looking man in his early sixties, with a full head of gray hair stood up quickly to take her hand. "Thank you for coming tonight, Mrs. Lang."  
  
"It was my pleasure, Mr. Branden."  
  
After Jessie had left, Branden turned to Pacey and patted him enthusiastically on his shoulder. "I'm impressed with your ideas, Pacey. My acquaintances in Seattle have recommended you highly. They like your fresh and innovative approach to architecture."  
  
"Some people say I'm a rebel but thank you," he replied sincerely.  
  
"Change is good. You've come a long way for- how old are you?"  
  
"Thirty, sir."  
  
"Thirty. God, I remember when I was thirty." He shook his head and smiled nostalgically. "You married?"  
  
Pacey shook his head.  
  
"Girlfriend?"  
  
"No."  
  
"No one to share your success with? That's a pity."  
  
"I'm sure she'll come along soon," he said in his best convincing tone, eager to bring the topic of conversation back to its original track.   
  
"That's good." Branden returned from reminiscing into reality. "Well, I shouldn't keep you in suspense. I've decided to give Easton International the go-ahead."  
  
Pacey and Barry smiled in unison. The former reached for the elderly man's handshake. "Thank you so much, Mr. Branden."  
  
"Call me Gary."  
  
"You're not going to regret it, Gary."  
  
"But there's one condition."  
  
"And that would be?"  
  
"I already have an interior designer in mind. She's worked on another one of my projects before and I like what she does. I want the two of you to collaborate on this one."  
  
"Our partner firm-" Barry started to say.  
  
"I will not approve of anyone else," Branden interrupted calmly.  
  
Pacey was silent for a moment and then he nodded. "I'm sure we'll manage to work this out," he said.   
  
"Good, I'll arrange for her to meet you once construction gets underway."  
  


*****

"Did you notice how much he insisted on having his way about that interior designer?"  
  
"Hmm."  
  
"Maybe she's his mistress."  
  
"Don't let your imagination run wild. Branden recognizes good work, that's all."  
  
"Yeah, probably," Barry said skeptically. He lifted his arm to flag a cab. "By the way, great work Pacey. I couldn't have asked for a better teacher to learn from."  
  
"Glad you think so."  
  
"The client actually likes you. I think that's great." He got into his cab. "See you Monday."  
  
Pacey lifted his hand in a gesture of farewell as the car drove away from the curb.   
  
Whilst everyone seemed to be rushing to meet someone, he really had nowhere else to go. Tightening his coat around the collar with his fingers, he started to walk in the direction of the wind that was gaining in ferocity. 

* * *

She was juggling her briefcase and a plastic cup of café latte and had just exited the elevator when she was cornered by her assistant, Grace.  
  
"Joey, Karen wants to see you. I think it's good news," she said excitedly.  
  
"Easy," Joey replied as she nearly dropped her cup when Grace grabbed her arm.  
  
"I'll take your briefcase. You go on in." Joey wasn't given much of a chance to object as the leather bag was taken from her and she was practically shoved toward the office of her boss.  
  
She took a sip of her coffee and wondered why Karen wanted to see her. She had just got back from Connecticut over the weekend to attend the opening of a friend's new store and hadn't had time to fill herself in on any office gossip. But Grace was usually right and good news couldn't be bad.  
  
"You wanted to see me, Karen?"  
  
"Come on in and close the door."  
  
Joey sat herself down and waited for the former to speak.  
  
"I received a call from Gary Branden's secretary this morning."  
  
She paused in the middle of bringing her coffee to her lips. "And?" she pressed on.  
  
Karen grinned. "Girl, you must have made _some_ impression. He wants to offer you another job, designing a chain of restaurants."  
  
Joey put her cup down and stood up. "You're kidding, right?"  
  
Her boss shook her head. "You'll probably start in late January."  
  
She started to smile and then it turned into a laugh. "Ahhhhh!" They both screamed as she ran to hug Karen.

* * *

  
_Please send feedback!_

_

* * *

_


	3. That Old Feeling

The Story of Us  
Chapter 3  
That Old Feeling   
by: Jade 

* * *

**Author's Note****: Lyric extracts of _I Miss You So _are from Diana Krall's _Love Scenes_ album.**

* * *

"Greg, I really don't want to make a big deal out of this."  
  
"My parents insisted and you know what they're like."  
  
"Yes," she said, as she took the laundry out of the washing machine and transferred it into the dryer. "Stubborn as mules."  
  
He turned her toward him and held her by her shoulders.  
  
"Please? Just this once."  
  
"No woman wants to be reminded that she's turning thirty," she grumbled. "Why would I be an exception?"  
  
Greg knew that it wasn't really the reminder of her age that was bothering her. She was more concerned about being thrust into the limelight.  
  
"They just want to introduce their daughter-in-law-to-be to the rest of the family and their friends."  
  
"But a birthday party with _one hundred_ guests?"   
  
He twitched his nose. "It's more like a hundred and fifty."  
  
She groaned at the mere thought of it.  
  
He started rubbing her arms to calm her down. "Sweetie," he pleaded. She glared at him but he could tell that her resolve was about to break. He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. "I promise I'll make it up to you."  
  
She sighed and smacked his hands away. "Go on, I've got work to do."

* * *

She had to smile so much, she felt like her mouth was permanently affixed to that position. It hurt even to do it in the inverse when she caught Greg's eye from afar. All she could give him was a weird half-smile, half-frown that freaked him a little.  
  
"Joey?"  
  
She turned to the voice and gasped slightly in surprise. "Mr. Branden."  
  
"I guess I wasn't paying too much attention when Agnes kept talking about the party the Davenports were throwing for their daughter-in-law Josephine."  
  
"Greg's grandmother doesn't like Joey," she admitted. "So they call me Josephine when she's around."  
  
"Well, happy birthday." He gave her a quick hug and she thanked him.  
  
"You know, I never quite told you how grateful I am for such a great opportunity. I'm looking forward to the job."  
  
"I couldn't think of anyone more fitted for it." His cellular phone started to sound. "Would you excuse me?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
Branden stepped aside and she was pulled gently from behind by Greg.  
  
"Don't hate me." He scrunched his face into his best imitation of a little boy's pout.  
  
She rolled her eyes but she was smiling. "I've got to hand it to your Mom. The place looks wonderful."  
  
"And you look beautiful," he commented as his eyes roamed appreciatively up and down her body. She was clad in a baby blue flowing dress that showed off her curves in all the right places and yet wasn't overly body hugging.   
  
"Hmm," she said, wrapping her arms around his waist.   
  
"Josephine!"  
  
She buried her face deep in his tux and groaned. "Don't move. Maybe she won't see me."  
  
"Too late," he replied as he spotted his mother finding her way toward them.

* * *

"He wants me to drop the papers off at some fancy party he's at," he told Jameson, who had come to his office to be updated on the progress of the project. "I've got to make a stop at my place to change first."  
  
"Very good work, Pacey."  
  
"It's a little too early to rejoice," he said, clearing the mass of papers off the surface of his worktable into neater stacks. "He hasn't approved of the plans."  
  
"You'll do fine." Jameson's voice trailed off as he caught sight of a mounted and framed painting on the wall. He moved closer for a more precise look. "Where is this place?"  
  
Pacey looked up to see what he had meant. His expression changed slightly as he answered the question. "The suburbs in Boston."  
  
"Beautiful." The former noted the small initials of the artist in the bottom right corner. "J.P. Anyone famous?"  
  
"Just an old friend," he said quietly.  
  


*****

It took him less than an hour to get changed and find his way to the address that he had been given. When he arrived, the only indication he gave that he noticed the size of the house and what seemed to be a million cars, was a slightly inclined brow and a twitch of his mouth.   
  
"What sort of a party is this?" he asked one of the valets.  
  
"Mr. Davenport's fiancée is celebrating her birthday."  
  
"Must be some birthday. Could you tell Mr. Gary Branden that Pacey Witter is here to see him?"  
  
"Certainly." He picked up a phone and pressed for a line to the house. Pacey wandered off closer to the garden and caught a glimpse of the merriment that was going on indoors.  
  
"Mr. Branden will be out in a second."  
  
"Thanks," he said.  
  
He returned to his car and got out the blueprints just as Branden sauntered his way with a glass in his hand.  
  
"Hey, Gary," he greeted. "I've got the prints-"  
  
"I'll take a look at them later. Come join us for a drink."  
  
"I don't think I should. I'd better be getting-"  
  
"Nonsense. David isn't going to mind."  
  
Pacey reluctantly agreed and followed him into the house. _The customer is always right, _he thought. Besides Jameson wasn't going to be too pleased if Branden was annoyed.  
  
"I have some business to discuss with friends but I'll be right back. You go mingle." Branden was gone in a flash.  
  
He sighed and grabbed a glass off a passing tray. He downed its contents in no time at all while glancing around. The place was full of perspective clients but personally it wasn't really his sort of crowd. He was about to go look for Branden and lie to him that a pressing matter at work required his presence when a voice boomed over a microphone. His attention, as everyone else's, spun toward the makeshift stage where the band had been playing. 

*****

"Bernard and I would like to thank you all for attending the party this evening. As you would have heard, our son Gregory has recently got engaged to a wonderful girl-" There were loud sighs from the majority of the female population. Linda Davenport laughed as she continued, "-who's celebrating her birthday today. We'll leave it to him to introduce his fiancée." There was a round of applause as her son took his place beside her.  
  
Pacey kept his face half-hidden behind another glass as he watched the stage disinterestedly.  
  
"Thank you, Mother," he said, taking the microphone from her. "My heart was stolen the moment I saw her for the first time in an oversized sweatshirt and wrinkled jeans." The crowd laughed. "Her hair was on ends but she was still the most beautiful girl I had ever laid eyes on. Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to present my fiancée and the birthday girl tonight - Miss Josephine Potter!"  
  
There were cheers and enthusiastic applause from many of the guests who had already met and liked her. Around him, people were clapping but he was too stunned to move. The glass in his hand squeaked as his grip tightened around it. _It couldn't be her._ But it was as she hoisted herself into his clear view.  
  
Joey didn't want to go up on stage but she knew that it would seem impolite not to say a few words. Taking Greg's hand, she lifted herself up the platform, careful not to trip over the length of her dress.  
  
She smiled appreciatively and waited for the applause to die down. "Greg wasn't looking his best either when we first met."   
  
Chuckles filled the room.   
  
"But we got to talking and I realized that there wasn't anyone else I'd rather be with for the rest of my life," she said. Greg took her hand and kissed it.   
  
"Aww," the lady beside him commented to her husband.  
  
She was more beautiful than he'd remembered. Age hadn't diminished her qualities in the least. Years ago, she was a sweet sixteen-year-old girl and years later, she was an enchanting woman. She still looked like a goddess to him. _Why did she have to appear again? _He took a deep breath and tried to clear his head.   
  
Branden walked up to him. "Wonderful, isn't she? She's the interior designer I was talking to you about."  
  
_This can't get any worse._  
  
In the background, the band had started playing slow jazz and the singer was crooning to the romantic tune.

_"Those happy hours I spent with you  
That lovely afterglow…"_

"Come on, I want to introduce you."__

_"Your sweet caresses, each rendezvous…"_

  
"No." He stopped the man by putting a hand on his arm. "Gary, something's come up at the office. I really have to get back."__

_"Most of all, I miss you so…"_

  
People were pairing up on the dance floor, wrapped up in each other's arms as they swayed to the music. From a brief glance sideways, he saw her dancing, her head resting on her fiancé's shoulder. _Fiancé. She was getting married, for god's sake.  
  
_"Are you sure?" Branden asked.__

_"You once filled my heart with  
No regrets, no fears"_

"Yes."

_"Now you'll find my heart  
Filled to the top with tears"_

"All right then, I'll walk with you to the car and get the prints." As Branden put his Scotch on the rocks down and indicated to his wife that he was going outside for awhile, Pacey made a move for the exit. He couldn't get out of there fast enough. When they reached his car, he wasted no time in handing his client what he wanted and hurriedly got into the driver's seat, ready to drive off.  
  
"Boy, you're in some hurry."  
  
"I'm sorry, Gary. Give me a call when you're done with them, will you?"  
  
"Sure thing."  
  
Pacey started the ignition and his headlights were glaring as they stood out in the night. He geared the car into reverse.__

_"I'll always love you and want you, too  
How much you'll never know"_

When the lights and music from the house was but a flicker in the night and he felt that he was far enough to be safe, he stopped the car by the side of the road. His head fell to the steering wheel as he tried to control his breathing.__

_"Most of all, I miss you so"_

  
She felt her heart jump the way it always did when she found her mind drifting back to her past. She shivered slightly.   
  
"Cold?"   
  
She shook her head and cuddled closer to him. Her eyes were squeezed shut as she tried to black out what she had been thinking of…_whom_ she had been thinking of. __

_"I'll always love you  
Most of all, I miss you so"_

_

* * *

_

_  
Please send feedback!_

* * *


	4. So We Meet Again

The Story of Us  
Chapter 4  
So We Meet Again   
by: Jade 

* * *

**Author's Note****: Alright, I fear my life will be in danger if I make the suspense last any longer :o) The title says it all.  
  
Hi to Holly, Kay Bennett, Stone Cold, Rinny and Kilby.**

* * *

"Whhhoa."  
  
"Grace, be careful," Joey said for the umpteenth time that day. She'd always told her assistant not to wear high heel shoes and tight skirts to the construction sites they visit but her advice fell on deaf ears. Grace was more pre-occupied with looking for a hunk of a boyfriend than listening to her.  
  
The head builder saw them approaching and met them halfway. "Ms Potter?" he asked.  
  
She nodded and shook his outstretched hand.  
  
"Jake Owen."  
  
"Thank you for seeing us so soon, Mr. Owen."  
  
"If we're going to work together, I'd prefer you call me Jake."  
  
"Please call me Joey then." She indicated her assistant who had stopped to adjust the strap on her shoe. "That's my assistant, Grace Adams."  
  
The latter waved her hand slightly to acknowledge the introduction as Owen eyed her unsuitable attire. In contrast, Joey was dressed in a comfortable top under her coat, loose pants and loafers.   
  
"You ready?" he asked.  
  
"Lead the way."  
  


*****

She stood with her arms crossed, taking in every bit of detail of the almost-finished section of the restaurant. Amid the construction that was still going on, she was calmly pondering over colors and design. Except for her having to yell to be heard above the noise by Grace, who was noting down materials to be ordered, she appeared not one bit flustered by the chaos about her.   
  
"Did you get that?"  
  
Grace grimaced as she kept one hand over her ear.  
  
"How's it going?" Owen asked, approaching them.  
  
"Great."  
  
"Good," he said. "The architect in charge-"  
  
The rest of his sentence was blocked out by a combination of the tractors from across the street and the racket indoors.  
  
She tried to lip-read and managed to catch the gist of what he had been saying.  
  
"We'll be meeting with the architects at their office later this afternoon. Whatever questions I have will be answered then," she told him.

* * *

"Do you know the man's name?" Grace asked.   
  
"It's funny how it never came up earlier," she mused. "Jake Owens mentioned it but above all that noise, I could only catch the guy's first name. I think it was some fancy initials, K.C. or something."  
  
She stirred her third cup of coffee that day and mentally noted that her next dose of the black liquid had better be decaf. Grace and her had gone back to their office to change into more formal suits to meet with their partners on the project and were now waiting for them in their conference room.   
  
A lady and a young man who looked like he was still an understudy walked in first and stood behind their seats. Joey felt someone brush past behind her to get the front of the table and guessed that it would be the head architect. She stood up and was all ready to offer a handshake when their eyes met.  
  
"Miss Potter, I presume."  
  
In that instant she looked into his eyes and heard him speak, she froze. She was shell-shocked to say the least. She couldn't seem to move a single part of her body.  
  
"Miss Potter, I'm Pacey Witter. These are my assistants, Jessie Ryder and Barry Kaufman.   
  
Grace waited for her to be introduced but when it didn't come, she leaned in closer. "Joey," she whispered and nudged with an elbow. She couldn't get a reaction so she cleared her throat and took the initiative. "This is Joey Potter, she's in charge. I'm Grace Adams."  
  
Everyone nodded greetings and took their seats. Everyone but Joey, who still hadn't stirred. Grace tugged at her arm. She had to drag her shocked eyes away from his already-turned face but she didn't take her seat. Instead, she stumbled slightly and mumbled an excuse to go to the ladies'. Once outside, she fell back against the wall and gasped for breath.   
  
"Miss Potter, is everything all right?" The receptionist had hurried around her position behind her desk to get to her. "You look like you're about to faint."  
  
"I'm fine," she managed to reply in a weak voice. "Could you just point me toward the ladies' room, please?"  
  


*****

"Joey?"  
  
Grace got off her knees and started banging on the cubicle door. "You've been gone for a long time. I'm afraid the others are getting impatient." She heard a click and the door opened slightly under her knuckles. She pushed it aside and saw her superior sitting on the toilet.  
  
"What is going on?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"And that is why you're pondering over life's mysteries, sitting on top of the toilet while we're wanted for a meeting. I don't think Karen or Mr. Branden's going to be too happy about it."  
  
Joey looked up. "Have you ever met someone you thought changed your life forever?"  
  
Grace lowered herself, although it wasn't very easy in her skirt, to the latter's level. "Are you going to tell me that you know that gorgeous man back in the room?" she asked, although she had already made a wild guess.  
  
Joey nodded.  
  
She sighed. "Talk about fate."  
  
"I don't believe in fate."  
  
"Well I do and right now, I don't think it's going to wait very long." She took Joey's hand. "You're a professional and you can handle this. So let's haul our asses back before we get thrown off the project."  
  
For all her outwardly eccentricities and imperfections, Joey had always admired Grace Adams for her dedication and consciousness when she was on the job. She herself had never let anything get in the way of work. Until today.  
  
She nodded again. Her legs felt like jelly as she stood up and she grabbed onto Grace's shoulder before she fell over.  
  
"Maybe we could postpone this," Grace suggested worriedly.  
  
"I can do this," she insisted.  
  


*****

"I'm sorry about the delay. It's been a tough week at the office and I must have been more tired than I thought." She glanced at him and then smiled ruefully at his assistants. "This is really embarrassing."   
  
Jessie was quick to rescue her. "Oh no, don't be. Are you feeling better now?"  
  
"Yes, thank you."  
  
She took her seat and her eyes remained on the glass of water in front of her until she was forced to look at him when he spoke to her.   
  
"Should we begin?"  
  
"By all means," she said softly.

* * *

"And he didn't try to speak to you after the meeting?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Basically, you guys acted like you didn't know each other."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Why was I never told about this?"  
  
"Daphne," she warned.  
  
"We've been friends for so long and you've never mentioned a Pacey Witter," she went on to say. "This is unforgivable."  
  
"By the time we became friends, he was long out of the picture."  
  
Daphne took her place on the couch beside her. "Or so you say."  
  
"It's true."  
  
Her roommate shook her head at her explanation and went into her room. She returned with something that she shoved toward her. "Tell me this is not a sign."  
  
Joey took in what was handed to her. "Where did you get this?"  
  
"I was cleaning out your room and I found this behind the dresser." Daphne crossed her arms. "Out of the picture, huh? Maybe it's time you came clean."  
  
She waved the photograph in her hand. "This doesn't mean anything."  
  
"Then why are you so afraid to remember?"  
  
Joey didn't respond. She removed herself from the couch and walked to the window. One thing she missed about staying there was the magnificent view the apartment overlooked.   
  
"This may be a long shot but those times you kept coming over after you moved out…was it because you were looking for this?" Daphne asked quietly.  
  
She ran her fingers over the face in the photo. "I thought I had lost it for good." She looked back out at the lights decorating Manhattan's night sky. "The day he was set to leave Capeside, I went to his house but he wasn't there. His mother was sorting through his high school graduation photos and I asked if I could have one." The background of the photo she was holding was filled with wandering students and their families as Pacey stood proudly in the foreground, clad in a gown and his cap, with his certificate in one hand. His smile jumped right back at her. "I don't know why I did but at that time, it seemed so sad that that would be the end and I needed something to…remember." She pulled herself out of her reverie. "You really should have just thrown this away when you found it."  
  
"You're a lot sillier than I thought if you think that throwing a memory away is going to erase the past."  
  
"I'm engaged to Greg."  
  
"I never said you weren't." She glanced at her knowingly. "Joey, you just gave yourself away."  
  
The latter bit her lip, afraid to say more.  
  


*****

An hour later, she had told Daphne enough for her to understand the situation but deliberately left out certain details.  
  
"Therapy isn't always therapeutic," Daphne said after she was done listening to her former roommate's complicated past. "I almost regret making you tell me."  
  
Joey scoffed at her lighthearted remark.  
  
"Seriously though," she continued, sobering up. "What are going to do about it?"  
  
"I don't have to do anything about it." She put her hands to her chest to emphasize her point and as though to convince herself of her will. "I'm a professional and professionals get their jobs done, in spite of the circumstances."  
  
Daphne raised a brow. "And you don't have a problem with it?"  
  
"No problem," she repeated.  
  
"Because you're a professional."  
  
"Because I'm a professional."  
  
"And because you no longer love him."  
  
"I-" She stopped short. "That isn't fair, Daphne," she muttered.  
  
"Did you ever tell him?"  
  
Joey shut her eyes and leaned her head back. "Yes," she could barely get the word out. "But he didn't hear me."  
  
"And how did he feel about you?"  
  
Her eyes fluttered open and began to tear slightly. "The truth?"  
  
Daphne waited for her to continue.   
  
"We were always careful not to say anything we shouldn't have said and that included how we felt about each other. But it wouldn't have mattered how he really felt because I would have stayed with him if I could."  
  
A tear fell from her eye and she quickly wiped it away with the back of her hand.  
  
"That summer was a tragedy because it made me realized I had walked into his life too late."  
  
Daphne wrapped her arm around Joey's shoulder and the latter leaned her head onto her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Joey," she said sympathetically.  
  
She sniffled. "Then why don't you ever ask the simple questions?" she asked.  
  
"I would if I knew the easy answers."

* * *

"Did you see the rock on her hand? That honker of a ring could have made a dent in my forehead if she had thrown it at me."  
  
"It was huge," Jessie agreed.  
  
"I heard she's marrying some rich man's son," Barry continued. "That day at the meeting? Do you think she could have been pregnant?"  
  
"Barry," a curt voice interrupted. "You don't get paid to gossip on office time."  
  
Barry and Jessie exchanged curious looks at the almost-threatening tone in Pacey's voice. It also didn't escape their notice he had seemed distracted lately and even more so, after their meeting with Joey Potter.  
  
The door opened and his secretary's head popped in. "They're here," she announced.  
  
"Send them in."  
  
Joey was definitely more composed and prepared than she had been two days ago. Still, she was a little shaken when she came face-to-face with him once more.   
  
"Mr. Witter," she acknowledged.  
  
"Pacey."  
  
She didn't feel comfortable calling him that nor telling him he could address her by her first name. She turned away from him and settled into a chair, ready to begin.  
  
He stared at her back for a moment and then took his place and called things to order.  
  


*****

Grace thanked Pacey's secretary and took the carton of coffee cups and box of pastries from her. She laid them on the side table and took in the disheveled state of everyone in the room. The men's ties had been loosened until they were hanging lifelessly on their necks and their jackets thrown carelessly over the backs of their chairs. The women seemed a little more unperturbed but Jessie's once-neat chignon was fraying and Joey's suit was starting to crinkle. She herself was walking without shoes.  
  
Joey started to collect her hair in a ponytail at her nape before she remembered that she had chopped off her locks on a moment of impulse soon after her birthday. Maybe turning thirty was bothering her more than she knew. Her fingers moved to push her black frames further up the bridge of her nose instead as she pored over the blueprints spread out in front of her. But her attention wandered and she found herself looking at him from the corner of her eye.  
  
He had put on his gold-framed glasses soon after they had started and she had been unable to conceal her slight surprise. "Eyestrain," he had explained. "Me too," she had said about herself. Taking them off, he massaged the bridge of his nose before wearing them again. He leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms over his head and caught her looking.  
  
She hastily turned back to her work.   
  
"Jessie," he finally said. "Miss Potter and I have something to discuss in my office." He stood up and took her elbow lightly. "We won't be long."  
  
Joey didn't want to be alone with him but he wasn't forceful and his eyes told her that she didn't have to go if she didn't want to.   
  
"We'll be right back," she directed at Grace after a moment's hesitation.  
  
They didn't say a word to each other until they were in his office and the door was shut behind them. He stayed by the door while she walked into the middle of the room and took in his décor. Or perhaps, she was just trying to avoid looking at him.  
  
She stopped short when she saw what was on his wall. She walked closer to it.   
  
"I did say you were going to make it."  
  
She touched her framed picture gently. "I wasn't sure that you were going to like it."  
  
"I never got a chance to say thank you."  
  
"It wasn't much."  
  
"Yes it was."  
  
Her fingers paused and her hand fell back to her side. "I never imagined that you would become an architect."  
  
"Neither did you imagine that you would ever see me again."  
  
"Don't tell me you didn't think the same," she retorted. For an instant, the Joey he knew so well was present.  
  
"You had your hair cut lately."  
  
"How would you know?"  
  
"I was at the birthday party your mother-in-law gave for you," he replied nonchalantly.   
  
"What?" She swirled around and stumbled in her haste.   
  
He kept his hands in his pockets and walked over to the desk. "There's no reason why we have to remain hostile toward each other."  
  
It sank in. "You started this! You had the head start. You knew we were going to be partners and you chose to pretend like we'd never met in our lives." She shook her head and walked up to the door angrily but was stopped by a hand to her arm. "Let go of me," she warned in a low voice.  
  
His voice was calm and sincere. "It was my fault. I'm sorry." She didn't release her grip on the doorknob but he knew she was at least listening because she wasn't struggling. "I admit I didn't know how to go about this at first but I definitely don't want it to go this way. I was confused. How do you treat someone you've shared so much with that you never thought you'd see again?"  
  
She couldn't look him in the eye. "How do you?" she mumbled.  
  
"Could I at least give an old friend a hug?"  
  
Her gaze shot up to his face and she knew that he meant it. She let go of the doorknob and she found her arms going around him.   
  
"Thank you, Joey," he whispered in relief. It was the first time he had said her name since they met again.  
  
She felt like crying.  
  


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_  
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* * *


	5. I'll Be Okay

The Story of Us  
Chapter 5  
I'll Be Okay   
by: Jade 

* * *

**Author's Note****: Thank you all (you know who you are) for your support**** J ****And to the person who sent me that anonymous feedback-cum-online greeting card…I appreciate the advice and have taken it into account. Thanks for reading! ****J**

* * *

She was too engrossed in her work to even notice that someone had walked into the room and was resting her hip on her desk.   
  
"Joey…"  
  
"Hmm," she said, giving the source of the voice barely a glance before she resumed drawing.  
  
"I've been thinking about taking you off the project."  
  
This time, Karen got her full concentration. "What are you saying?"  
  
"It's come to my attention that we might have a problem."  
  
In reflex, Joey looked out her office to Grace.   
  
"She didn't say anything until I forced it out of her," came the explanation. "I know you, Joey. I know how you work. You've been distracted lately and I wanted to know why."  
  
"Karen, I'm working my ass off here. I admit I was a little shaken at first but don't bring my personal life into this because it has nothing to do with it. Not anymore."  
  
Her boss moved off the desk onto the chair facing her. "I couldn't even if I wanted to. Branden wouldn't agree to it, not unless you told him."  
  
"And why would I want to do that?"  
  
Karen leaned forward. "I'm not speaking to you as your boss right now. If you want out, all you have to do is say the word. We can figure something out."  
  
Joey took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I'm fine. Really."  
  
"And Pacey Witter feels the same?"  
  
She swung her chair around to stare into the sunlight streaming in. "We're both over the initial shock. Things have gone back to normal."  
  
Karen doubted what she said and Joey would probably understand why if she could hear herself. She stood up, ready to show herself out. "This can't be easy. Don't force it if you can't."  
  
Joey nodded distractedly. "Yeah," she whispered.

* * *

"Pacey sends his sincerest apologies. Something cropped up at home and he couldn't get away," Jessie said, entering the conference room that had become their workplace for the last two months when they weren't out visiting the site. "He doesn't want to hold up work so he's asked me to take over his place for today."  
  
"Is it serious?" Joey couldn't resist asking.  
  
"He didn't say but he sounded all right on the phone." Jessie dumped the things she was carrying onto the table. "Here's the start to another long day."  
  


***** 

She felt stupid. She hadn't even realized it until she had parked by the curb and got out of the car. She took several small steps before hesitation took over and she retreated. Her hand paused in the middle of turning the key back in its lock.  
  
"Oh, damn it," she muttered and she released her grip. Walking quickly through the giant entrance into the foyer of the luxurious building that was residence to fifty apartments, she was stopped by the concierge.   
  
"May I help you, Ma'am?"  
  
"I-I'm looking for Mr. Witter."  
  
"Oh, Mr. Witter's in Apt 7B. Let me just ring you up." He made his way to the telephone, ready to call the apartment.   
  
"No, wait." She rushed forward to stop him. "I changed my mind. It's late anyway."  
  
He looked at her curiously. "Are you sure?"  
  
"Yes," she replied, already on her way out.  
  
"Wouldn't you like to leave a message?"  
  
"No, no message. Thank you."  
  
She stood outside for a long time, watching people pass her by. She could admit it to herself. She had been acting differently ever since he turned up in her life again. She opened her car door but clumsily dropped her bunch of keys. Shaking her head, she bent down to pick it up when she was startled by a voice.  
  
"I thought it was you."  
  
Her head swung up and hit the door with a loud thud.  
  
"Ouch!" She dropped her keys again as her hand instinctively reached to touch the sore spot.  
  
"Are you okay?" He bent down next to her and lifted her keys off the ground, whilst holding her free arm lightly and sat her down on the driver's seat.  
  
He looked quite different out of his suits. In a sweater and khakis, he seemed more relaxed and more like the Pacey she knew. Sexier even. An alarm sounded off in her head; it was definitely time for her thoughts to switch lanes. "I was about to ask you the same question," she grimaced. She took her hand away and looked at it to make sure there wasn't any blood. "Looks like I'll survive."  
_  
_"You came here to ask me if I was okay?" He raised his brow in slight incredulity.  
  
"You don't have to sound so shocked, Pacey." She looked at him. "I was concerned," she softly admitted.  
  
"I'm okay," he said, after a moment's thought. He was still holding on to her arm. "Do you want to come in for awhile?"  
  
"I don't think I should," she said, her eyes still on him.  
  
"Maybe not," he replied. He straightened himself and handed her the keys. "I'll see you tomorrow."  
  
He hadn't walked very far before she halted him.   
  
"Wait."  
  


***** 

"Make yourself comfortable."  
  
He walked over to the bar while her eyes wandered over to the partition of his apartment that was his study. She took her time perusing each certificate and award on his wall.   
  
"What will you have?" he asked.  
  
"Scotch on the rocks."  
  
He poured her the drink and handed her the glass.   
  
"You've worked really hard," she said.  
  
"Well, it was either that or prove to everyone that I was really a loser."  
  
She swallowed a mouthful of her drink. "I really hate it when you talk like that."  
  
He tried to discern if she was jesting or serious.  
  
"You've never been a loser to me." She turned back to the wall and changed the subject abruptly. "Why aren't these adorning your office walls instead?"  
  
"Because the only person they really mean anything to is me."  
  
She didn't say a word nor move. Her back was still to him. Absently she ran her fingers through her hair and remembered too late that she had a bump.  
  
She winced.  
  
"Let me take a look," he turned her around slowly and took the glass from her, putting it down. Gingerly, he moved her hair aside as he examined the bruise. "That was a pretty hard knock. Looks like it's going to be sore for a few days."  
  
"It's your fault," she muttered. "I think you secretly enjoy springing surprises on me and then watching me squirm."  
  
"You have a pretty vivid imagination."  
  
She began to notice how close to her he was standing and suddenly, she seemed to stop breathing. "What happened to you today?" she asked, trying to sound normal, glad that the liquor had began to numb her senses a little.  
  
"My sister had a meningitis scare with her newborn girl and she couldn't get anyone to watch her boys at the last minute. Her husband's away on business."  
  
"What did the doctor say?"  
  
"The fever and rashes were due to an allergic reaction to medication. They'll clear up soon."  
  
She nodded.  
  
It was his turn to notice how close she was but he was reluctant to move away.  
  
She grabbed her glass and gulped the rest of her Scotch down. "I'd better go. Greg gets off his shift in an hour."  
  
"The elusive significant other I've yet to meet. When are you going to introduce us?"  
  
"Never," she said, making for the door.  
  
"Don't be so hasty in making a decision," he called out.  
  
She swung the door open. "Pacey, you don't really want to do this."  
  
"Yes, I do. I want to meet the guy who's going to make you happy for the rest of your life."  
  
She looked down at her feet and then back at him. "We'll see." Then she was gone.

* * *

"Greg, what- what are you doing here?" she asked, caught completely off-guard as she stepped out of the building and saw him.  
  
"I've got an hour and a half to spare. I came to take you to lunch." He gave her a quick kiss and took her briefcase from her. "What do you feel like having today?"  
  
"Greg-"  
  
"Hi," someone interrupted.  
  
She shut her eyes briefly at the introduction she hoped she'd never have to make.  
  
Forcing a bright smile, she turned to the voice. "Pacey, this is my fiancé, Greg Davenport. Greg, this is Pacey Witter, the architect in charge of the Branden works."  
  
They exchanged handshakes and pleasantries.  
  
"It's nice to meet you finally."  
  
"Finally?"  
  
"Joey talks about you all the time."  
  
"That's good." Greg shot her a look she knew all too well that said they were going to have a heart-to-heart talk as soon as they were alone. "Because she's never mentioned you."  
  
"Joey probably doesn't like to bring work home with her."  
  
"Probably," the latter ascertained not so convincingly.  
  
"Pacey, maybe we could postpone our lunch meeting until tomorrow," she quickly interjected.   
  
"Nonsense," Greg disagreed. "If Pacey doesn't mind my intrusion, we could all have lunch together."  
  
Joey's face fell. Her eyes made a silent plea to Pacey to turn down the suggestion.  
  
It seemed like an eternity before he spoke.   
  
"No, I think I should leave you two alone. We can have the meeting tomorrow." He reached for a handshake. "My sister's having a barbecue at her place Sunday afternoon, maybe you guys could come."  
  
"Sure, we have nothing on. We'll be there," Greg said before she could protest.  
  
"Great, I'll pass the address on to Joey." He smiled and disappeared into the crowd.  
  
"Nice guy," Greg commented.  
  
Joey shook her head in despair.  
  


***** 

"There's something you're not telling me."  
  
"So now you're a mind reader as well."  
  
"It doesn't take a genius to figure that out. Besides, you do that thing with your lip-" he gestured toward her mouth, "-when something's up."  
  
She let out a short laugh. "No, I don't."  
  
"You're doing it right now."  
  
Her hand went to her lips self-consciously.   
  
He chuckled.  
  
She wrinkled her nose at him and took a sip of her wine.  
  
"I'm still waiting, Joey."  
  
She sighed. "Pacey's an old friend…"

* * *

"Don't ask me how I knew you were going to come over."  
  
"Don't start with me, Daphne."  
  
"There's something on the counter top for you."  
  
Daphne plopped back onto the couch, in front of the television set as Joey went into the kitchen and spotted what was on the counter.  
  
"No thanks, I don't feel like ice cream."  
  
"Girl, the ice cream's for me." She stood up and walked over to where Joey was standing. "These," she said, pointing to a pair of rubber gloves, "-are for you."  
  
Over the years, Joey had developed the habit of cleaning out the place whenever she had problems to work out. Daphne usually took full advantage of her roommate's troubled state of mind whenever it happened. Other people went on a food binge. Joey Potter cleaned.  
  
"I was going to clean the bathroom but since you're here…" she let her voice trail off.  
  
"Daphne, you really are one of a kind."  
  
"Can't you take a joke anymore?"   
  
Joey pulled out a stool and sat on it. "How did I ever get myself into such a mess?" she said into her hands that were covering her face.  
  
Daphne pulled out another stool from the other side of the counter and sat opposite her. "I really should start charging you for this."  
  
"Arghh," Joey said and buried her face even deeper. 

* * *

When they next saw each other the following morning, she walked past him without so much as a good morning or hello. He cocked his eyebrow at her obvious dismissal of his presence as he stepped aside to allow her to precede him into the elevator.  
  
Four floors up, his curiosity finally got the better of him. "So tell me, what have I done this time?"  
  
She tapped her feet impatiently and concentrated on the numbers lighting up one by one.  
  
"Fine," he said, reaching for the red Emergency button.  
  
She grabbed his hand before he could press down on it. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Her voice had risen to a high pitch.  
  
"I had to do something," he replied as way of explanation.  
  
Her eyes narrowed. "You're crazy, Pacey."  
  
"You remember my name."  
  
The elevator rang out and the doors opened. She hurriedly walked out.  
  
"Joey-"  
  
She didn't stop so he tugged at her arm and dragged her into a corner just short of the firm's entrance.  
  
"You are a real sweetheart, you know that!"  
  
"Thanks. What's going on?"  
  
"Don't be so smug. You know what you did."  
  
He threw his arms in the air. "Tell me again."  
  
"Why did you invite us to your sister's barbecue?"  
  
He looked at her as if she had just gone crazy. "Bee-," he dragged his voice, "-cause I was being nice?"  
  
She tilted her head and glared at him in disbelief.  
  
"What do you want me to say?"  
  
"Ugh!" She let out a cry of frustration and sidestepped him to get to the office. He watched her push the glass door with newfound strength from sheer irritation and disappear inside.  
  
He stood where he was awhile longer. He leaned against the wall and sighed. She was right, his motives weren't exactly noble. He had other thoughts on his mind when he invited her and Greg to the party. Some part of him wanted to force her to admit that he had been a part of her life and she wouldn't have done that if he hadn't made himself known…to her fiancé.   
  
So all right, he was jealous.

* * *

"Come on in." Pacey moved aside to let them in. "They're all out back." They followed him and were led through a beautiful living room, past the spacious kitchen and into the open again. There were children running after one another whilst the men were separated into different conversations and taking turns at the pit and the women bustled around with their tasks.  
  
"Oh my God, Joey!"  
  
"Ashley," she said, wrapped up in a hug with Pacey's sister. "It's been ages."  
  
"It's been too long. Now that you know where we live, feel free to drop by any time."  
  
"We will. Ashley, this is Greg. Greg, Ashley."  
  
"Make yourselves comfortable," she said, juggling a half-filled bowl of Doritos and an empty Sprite bottle as she took Greg's hand. "I got to get more snacks and feed the baby. I'll talk to you later."  
  


***** 

She knew she hadn't the need to worry that Greg would have felt out of place. As usual, he and his ubiquitous charm blended right in with his new acquaintances and he even met a friend of an old friend from college. In fact, she had been more afraid that he and Pacey would be thrown together alone to converse for longer than necessary.  
  
She was probably afraid to be alone with Pacey too. She couldn't quite contribute to the conversation about babies the mothers were having and decided to find a quiet corner in the living room to sit. She signaled to Greg and moved out of the way before the children ran screaming past her indoors. They hadn't ceased running since she had arrived but one stopped in his tracks before turning back in a childish gait toward her.   
  
"Hey, Joey."  
  
Her eyes widened in surprise and her smile brightened at the sight of that unforgettable child she had met before. "Patrick, isn't it?"  
  
He giggled in delight.  
  
She got to her knees. "So this is your house?"  
  
"Yes." He nodded. "There's Eric and Mikey," he pointed out. "And there's my Mommy and Daddy-"  
  
"Patrick," someone said from behind her.  
  
"Uncle Pacey!" Her eyes followed Patrick as she watched him jump into his uncle's arms in excitement. Her smile grew even wider as Pacey affectionately tousled his nephew's hair.  
  
"Gee, you guys are sweating like pigs."  
  
Patrick giggled some more.  
  
"Your brothers are wondering where you are." He let Patrick down and slapped him lightly on his bottom. "Go on, they're waiting for you."  
  
The little one ran off, leaving the two of them behind, staring at each other.  
  
Pacey's lips twitched upwards first. "He knew your name."  
  
"I should have guessed, with the resemblance and all," she said quietly. She shook her head and fell back to the nearest couch. "But I don't believe in signs."  
  
He came to sit beside her.  
  
"We were at a hockey game and Patrick got separated from his older brother," she explained. "They were so afraid you'd be mad at them."  
  
"I didn't know Patrick got lost."  
  
"Well, don't blame them. It's been some time anyway."   
  
"I'm surprised he remembers you."  
  
"I've heard that kids have amazing memory power."  
  
"Ashley thinks he takes after me. We may have short attention spans but some things we just don't forget."  
  
She met his eyes and had to look away first.  
  
"Looks like she may be right," he continued.  
  
"I'm going to go mingle," she said before making her escape.  
  
He sat back against the couch and watched her until she disappeared from sight, then it was the empty air she had left behind.  
  
"Now there's a lovesick fool if I ever saw one." His sister settled carefully onto the couch, with Hannah resting languidly in her arms.   
  
He shook his head. "The jealousy will wear off eventually."  
  
"Amongst other feelings you also have." She covered his hand with hers. "You still got a chance."  
  
"I don't have the habit of breaking up marriages."  
  
"She's engaged."  
  
"You're in love, Lee. What do you think? Is there a difference in this case?" He put his other hand on top of hers. "She doesn't need to choose. I won't make her," he said softly. "I'd probably lose again anyway." He slid his hand out from under hers and kissed her cheek before leaving the room.  
  


***** 

"Hi, Pop."  
  
"Pacey! It's good to hear from you." There was a pause. "We missed you at Christmas."  
  
"I'm sorry I couldn't be there."  
  
"How's Ashley and the kids?"  
  
"Everyone's good."  
  
"And Nick?"  
  
"He's good too."   
  
There was more silence.   
  
"Listen, Pop. I just wanted to say hello."  
  
"I'm happy you did."  
  
The composure in his voice faltered. "I'm not at home right now. I'd better go before I seriously elevate someone's phone bill."  
  
"Okay." The voice was disappointed. "Talk to you soon?"  
  
"Yeah. Bye."  
  
"Bye."  
  
He put the receiver down just as Ashley popped her head into the guestroom.   
  
"Who were you talking to?" she asked.  
  
"No one."   
  
"Well, Joey's about to leave. You want to see them out?"  
  
He followed his sister out of the room and into the hallway where guests were preparing to depart and choruses of 'thank you' and "see you soon" were being exchanged.   
  
Joey was standing farthest from the front door.  
  
"I hope you had fun today," he said, coming up from behind her.  
  
She jumped a little. "You did it again."  
  
"Maybe you're just jumpy by nature." He smiled. "Thank you for coming."  
  
"I had fun." Her expression as she said the words was saddened. "Pacey-" She was stopped short by Greg's reappearance from the bathroom.   
  
"Pacey, thanks for the invite. We had a good time."  
  
"No problem. I'm glad you enjoyed yourselves."  
  
Greg stole a look at his watch. "Sweetie, you ready to go?"  
  
She nodded mutely and allowed herself to be led forward where they thanked Ashley and Nick, after which she looked over her shoulder and managed to steal a glance at him.  
  
He gave her a small smile and then retreated out of her view just as the door closed on them.

* * *

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Please send feedback!_

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	6. Runaway

The Story of Us  
Chapter 6  
Runaway   
by: Jade 

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**Author's Note****: _Love is a many splendored thing_…but it can also be the most painful.**

_

* * *

_

**"I would love to love you  
Like you do me…"  
_-'Love To Love You', _The Corrs **

  
The day had arrived. They stood by his side, a little anxious as he absorbed the finished appearance with slow deliberation. He stepped in and looked through the interior, taking in every detail without so much as saying a word.  
  
They followed behind, half-anticipating that at anytime he was going to tell them that he was unhappy or dissatisfied with something or that he simply changed his mind about the original plans. And that would mean another month or more of commitment on this project.  
  
Joey wasn't sure she could take another month of working with _him_. They were getting too close for comfort.   
  
And as if he sensed what she was thinking, he tilted his head toward her. Smiling reassuringly, he hoped to dismiss her anxiety and worry in her eyes, not knowing that he was the source of all her conflicted emotions.  
  
She took a step back involuntarily and just missed Grace's foot, caught by surprise when Gary Branden suddenly turned around to announce his verdict.  
  
He laughed at seeing her wide-eyed look. "Joey, there's no need to be so nervous. I love it!" She smiled at hearing his remark and so did Pacey. Enthusiastically shaking everyone's hands, he continued to praise their work.   
  
"I expect to see all of you with your dates at the party on opening night. And Pacey?" He put his hand on Pacey's shoulder and led him aside.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"If you haven't got a date, I have someone perfect in mind."  
  
"Thanks, Gary," he said, "but I've already asked someone."  
  
Joey, who had been conversing with Grace and Jessie, was trying hard to pay attention to what they were saying instead of eavesdropping. She failed, of course. Her face fell a little when she heard that last bit and her heart was pounding so loudly, she was afraid someone would hear it.  
  
_Josephine Potter, get a grip on yourself._  
  
Branden finally walked away, leaving him to dwell on the lie he just told. Now he had to figure out how he was going to find a date to the party. Maybe Ashley had a friend she could introduce… As quickly as the thought came, it disappeared. Blind dates were always a bad idea.   
  
He heard a woman's laugh and his attention was drawn to the three of them in conversation. Maybe it was a good thing the collaboration would soon be over because he wasn't sure he could take any more of the mental torture she was unaware she was putting him through just by being there.   
  
He supposed it was time to run away again.

* * *

He threw his briefcase aside and dropped into his chair as his secretary recited his messages for the day. He gave barely a hint that he was absorbing her words until she came to the last one.  
  
"What?"  
  
"A Miss Jennings dropped by earlier but you weren't here. She said she was going to come back at 2:30," she repeated.  
  
Pacey glanced at his watch: 2:20. _Damn_! He shut his eyes, already feeling a headache coming on. "All right, send her in when she gets here," he told his secretary.   
  
"Might as well make it fast and painful," he told himself.  
  


***** 

"Go on in, he's expecting you."  
  
She considered bolting but she couldn't seem to move her feet fast enough.   
  
She knocked on his door once, softly.  
  
"Come in."  
  
She knew it was definitely a mistake the minute she opened that door and saw him for the first time in five months.  
  
"Hello, Pacey." It didn't feel like the words were coming out of her mouth as she said them.   
  
"Lucy," he replied. "Take a seat, please."  
  
She sat down and regarded her surroundings. "It looks more or less the same as it did in Seattle."  
  
"You look well," he said, bringing her gaze back to him.  
  
"So do you." She mustered up a small smile and added before she lost her nerve, "I know you must be wondering what I'm doing here."  
  
His silence told her just that.  
  
"I thought about this moment for ages." She let out a short laugh. "Coming to look for you and knowing I'd feel stupid after that."  
  
"Lucy-"  
  
"I just wanted to see you again. To convince myself that it's really over."   
  
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."  
  
She waved his apology aside. "No, don't be. You did the right thing. The whole time we were together, I could never shake off the feeling that you were holding out for something I wasn't." He turned away from her unwavering gaze. "So, have you found what you were looking for?" she said in an overly cheerful tone she didn't feel.  
  
"Lucy, I really wanted to. Believe me, I did."  
  
"I just wasn't enough." Her eyes averted from his when she said it. She picked up her tote bag by her side and straightened up slowly. "Pacey, the only thing I ever wanted was for you to be happy," she said softly.  
  
There was nothing he could say that wouldn't make the situation worse.  
  
"I don't want to spring any more surprises on you," she added, standing at the door. "Gary Branden's my godfather. I'm in New York for the opening of his new restaurant."   
  
Then she walked out and he was left watching her go.

* * *

"I'm impressed," Greg commented the minute they stepped out of the cab they decided to take in favor of the car.   
  
"Wait until you see my work on the inside."  
  
"Oh, I'm sure I'll just die of pride," he teased.   
  
She playfully pinched him on the arm.  
  


***** 

Pacey only arrived minutes before Branden did. He had been contemplating not coming at all but that would have been harder to explain than why he didn't bring a date or how he knew his goddaughter.   
  
"Pacey, where's your date?"  
  
"She- She got called back to the office at the last minute. She works for a newspaper." It was getting easier and easier to lie.  
  
"Well then, I want you to meet my goddaughter, Lucy Jennings. Lucy, this is Pacey Witter, the architect I was telling you about."  
  
She saved him from having to explain. "Uncle Gary, we know each other."  
  
"You know each other?"  
  
"From Seattle," he contributed.   
  
Branden glared at them suspiciously.   
  
"Just friends," Lucy cut in before the grueling questions started. She shared a knowing glance with her godfather that must have conveyed she didn't want to talk about it because he dropped the subject albeit with a fair amount of reluctance.  
  
"We'll talk later," he said and left the two of them alone.  
  


***** 

Joey saw the two of them standing by the table of hors d'oeuvres when Greg steered her toward the bar to get a drink. She hastily looked away as she processed in her mind at how animate and intimate a conversation he seemed to be having with the beautiful, leggy brunette.  
  
"Hey, there's Pacey. We should go say hello."  
  
She let Greg lead while she dragged her feet.  
  
"Pacey," he greeted as he neared them.  
  
"Hi, Greg," he said offering the customary firm handshake. "Lucy, this is Greg Davenport-"  
  
Joey moved a few steps from behind Greg and offered a slightly embarrassed smile.  
  
"-And his fiancée, Joey Potter."  
  
Pacey hadn't noticed that the timbre of his voice had changed when he said her name but Lucy did. In fact, she had also noticed the look in his eyes that had been for two seconds before it disappeared.  
  
"Greg, Joey, this is Lucy Jennings, a friend from Seattle."  
  
_Close friend_? Joey thought and then rapidly tried to shake off the thought.  
  
"Joey Potter…" Lucy shook Joey's hand and then mumbled under her breath as it dawned on her, "J.P."  
  
"What?" Pacey asked.  
  
"Nothing," she replied. But Joey had heard her and swallowed nervously.  
  
"Sweetie, are you feeling all right? You're looking a little pale."  
  
"I'm fine," she reassured Greg. "We'll leave you guys to your conversation," she directed at Pacey. "It was nice meeting you, Lucy."  
  
Greg echoed her words.  
  
"Likewise." She observed the two of them walking away and then commented, "Nice couple."  
  
"Ya," Pacey agreed not too enthusiastically.  
  


***** 

"Mind if I sit down?"  
  
Joey opened her eyes and broke away from her thoughts, distracted by a voice above her. "Please," she gestured.  
  
Lucy put her glass on the table and settled into an empty chair opposite her. They sat looking at each other, not saying a word until she broke the silence.  
  
"How long have you known Pacey?"  
  
"Nearly all my life," Joey replied. "We grew up in the same town."  
  
"I see."  
  
She coughed to cover up her uneasiness. "How about you?"  
  
"We dated for a year back in Seattle."  
  
"I see."  
  
"But we broke up just before he moved to New York," Lucy divulged.  
  
It wasn't really necessary for Joey to know all that. It was pretty obvious that Lucy Jennings knew who she was and what she meant in Pacey's past and was letting her know she knew.  
  
"Joey," she continued, "I'm sorry if I'm making you uneasy. It's just that I've always wondered about the girl who stole his heart."  
  
"We-"  
  
"I was happy being with him but that didn't override the fact that it hurts to be second best."  
  
"It was a long time ago." Joey's mind was a blank except for those words.  
  
"I thought about getting back at him for breaking my heart but I think now, he's hurting as much as I am."  
  
Joey bit her lower lip. "Pacey's the strongest person I know."  
  
"Are you so sure?" Lucy allowed Joey to ponder her question and then stood up slowly. "Somehow when it comes to you, I suspect it may all be a front." Lifting her glass in a cheer before she walked away, she added, "Congratulations on the coming wedding."  
  


***** 

She bade her godfather goodbye and then went to find Pacey.   
  
"I'm leaving. Got a 10:30 plane to catch."  
  
"I'll see you out," he said, excusing himself from his conversation.  
  
The limousine her godfather had arranged for her pulled up just as they walked out.  
  
"Give me a minute," she said to the driver. Turning to Pacey, she grinned and then it fell into a sad tilt of the corners of her mouth.  
  
"I broke up with you because I didn't want to walk away too late." Another apology was the last thing she wanted to hear and she was grateful he understood that by remaining silent. "I half-hoped that it was the wrong thing to do but after seeing her tonight, that feeling completely disappeared." She lifted her hand to cup his cheek and her eyes watered. "Must be the wine making me so emotional," she brushed off but her expression said otherwise. She leaned in to kiss him softly on the lips and then moved in to rest her head on his shoulder briefly. "Goodbye, Pacey," she whispered, her voice quivering and then she quickly retreated from him and got into the car. When they had safely pulled away from the curb and into traffic, she allowed herself to break down into tears.

* * *

"Everyone asked me the same question tonight," Greg said from in front of the mirror in the bathroom as he loosened his bow tie.  
  
"And what's that?" she asked absently, slipping her shoes off and staring into the mirror at her dresser.   
  
"When we were finally going to get married." When there wasn't an answer, he peeked out into the room at her. "Did you hear what I said?"  
  
"Yeah, I heard you," she replied, looking away from the mirror and going to sit on the edge of the bed.  
  
"And?"  
  
"And what?" She bobbed her head, not understanding.  
  
He moved out of the bathroom and walked over to her. Getting on his knees, he took her hands and said, "I was thinking that since you and your work are currently on hiatus, we would be able to hold the ceremony in August."  
  
"August? That's three months away."  
  
"Not enough time?"  
  
She stared into his eyes. "No, August is fine," she finally told him.  
  
He smiled and so did she.

* * *

The concierge looked up from his book when he heard someone stumble into the foyer.   
  
"Mr. Witter, you alright?"  
  
"Yeah, Eddie. Just a little drunk." Pacey chuckled. "Don't you worry about me."   
  
Eddie returned to his reading but looked up again when he heard the sound of someone hitting the floor. He hurriedly ran to help Pacey up.   
  
"Okay, maybe I'm not so fine after all." He chuckled some more. "Must have had more to drink than I remember."  
  
"Mr. Witter, I'll help you to your apartment."  
  
"Thanks, Eddie," he said, putting a hand over the man's shoulder in his drunken stupor for support as they got into the elevator. "You got someone you love, Eddie?"  
  
"My wife, sir. Been married for twelve years."  
  
"Twelve years, huh?   
  
"Kids?"  
  
"Two boys, sir."  
  
"You are a lucky man."  
  
"Yes, I am."  
  
Pacey sobered a little. "Don't ever turn into a jerk like me."  
  
Eddie was saved from answering by the sound of the elevator indicating that they had arrived on their floor. Pacey stumbled out and the older man tried to stop himself from going down with the weight. He finally managed to drag the drunken man into his apartment and onto his bed.   
  
"Jo," he mumbled in his half-conscious state.  
  
Eddie shook his head and closed the front door behind him, wondering what kind of a woman had so much power to upset the normally carefree Mr. Witter in 7B so much.

* * *

_  
Please send feedback!_

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* * *

_


	7. I Know Him By Heart

The Story of Us  
Chapter 7  
I Know Him By Heart   
by: Jade 

* * *

  
**Author's Note****: Imagine Jude's _I Do_ (as featured on #304 "Home Movies") in the background as you read the first half of this chapter. I love that song and it fits perfectly.  
And I also wanted to say that the character of Henry Parker is starting to grow on me bit by bit.**

**

* * *

**

**"Though we've never been together  
We've never been apart"  
  
_-'I Know Him By Heart'_, Vonda Shepard**

  
_"I would like for us to remain friends."  
  
"Friends?" He laughed cynically. "Us?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"That's impossible." He started to walk away but she stopped him with a taunt.  
  
"You always, **always** do this to me! Run away, you're good at that."  
  
"Don't put this on me! You were the one who ended it!" he contributed to the shouting match.  
  
"That didn't mean I stopped loving you!"  
  
With that admission, there was a pause allowing them both to calm down.  
  
"I **loved** you," he finally replied, coldly. "Loved. Note the past tense. Go home, Joey."_  
  
She opened her eyes with a start and sat up in bed in a cold sweat.  
  
"Sweetie?" the voice beside her sleepily questioned.  
  
"Everything's fine, it was just a nightmare. Go back to sleep."  
  
"Hmm," he said and then there was silence but for the sound of her own labored breathing.   
  
The last time she had this dream she was in her freshman year of college. She thought it was over and done with…long gone.   
  
But she guessed wrong.

* * *

He threw the pile of mail on his coffee table without so much as a second glance and went to get himself more aspirin before taking a shower.   
_  
_For the last six weeks, he had thrown himself in his work because that was the only thing that kept him sane. And now sitting on the couch in fresher clothes, having done everything possible to keep his mind from drifting he found himself staring over the rim of his wine glass at the cream-colored envelope that brought him back to earth.  
  
He recognized her handwriting. And he had already decided that he wasn't going to go. 

* * *

"The last batch of invitations went out today, Ms. Potter. A few RSVPs have also been returned. And the caterer called to say…"  
  
Joey tried to look like she was listening as the secretary that Greg's father had so kindly loaned to them during this busy time of preparation kept talking but she was spacing out more than she'd care to admit. She had chosen to address the invitations herself, which might have seemed like a good way to get into the spirit of things but when she had reached his name on the list, all of that goodwill disappeared.   
  
"Selma-" she interrupted. "You do whatever you think is fine. Mr. Davenport trusts you and so do I."  
  
"B-but-"  
  
She grabbed her coat. "If Greg calls, just tell him I had something important to attend to and I'll see him at home tonight."  
  


*****

"Apt 7B? Mr. Witter, right?"  
  
She nodded before she lost her nerve.  
  
"I'm sorry, ma'am. Mr. Witter left in a hurry two days ago and he didn't say when he'd be back."  
  
"Did he mention where he was going?"  
  
"No, he didn't. I'm sorry."  
  
She walked out into the open, dejected. The weather was fine; it felt like it should be a good day.   
  
The doorman asked if she needed a cab but she politely declined his offer. "I'm going to walk," she said.

* * *

He shook her shoulder lightly and she roused from her nap.  
  
"Mom, go on home. I'll stay here with Pop."  
  
She lifted a hand and lightly grazed her husband's cheek as the machine keeping watch on his vitals continued to beep in the background.   
  
"Go on, Mom."  
  
"Alright, dear. But you call the minute anything changes," she said. "_Anything_."  
  
"I will."  
  
After she left, he sat in the chair she had vacated. He took his father's limp hand in his and started to talk to him, just like the doctor had recommended they did in order to try to awake him from his coma.   
  
After what felt like countless hours, his resolve weakened and he whispered shakily into his father's ear.  
  
"Pop, I know you can hear me. _Please_ wake up." 

* * *

"Well that's a load off our minds, huh?" Joey remarked, stepping out of the posh bridal store, smiling meekly at Daphne. They had just spent the better half of the morning keeping still for their fittings while the seamstresses went about poking pins into them.  
  
"Let's go for coffee," Daphne said, linking her arm through her best friend's.  
  
The waitress returned with their order and Joey started to stir her drink restlessly. Daphne continued to observe her silently.  
  
"What?"   
  
"I've been a bridesmaid more times than I care to remember. You've got to be the least excited bride-to-be I've ever seen."  
  
"I'm just bogged down by all these things I have to get done. It'll pass."  
  
"Joey, I went to college with you. I've seen you stressed and depressed over exams and that looks like nothing compared to what I'm seeing now." Daphne sighed. "This can't be easy. Have you heard from him?"  
  
"No." She immediately turned her face away and focused her attention on the people walking by the café. Looking back at her friend, she told her, "You should be glad I've finally taken your advice after all these years."  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"I'm thinking with my head."  
  
Daphne let out another sigh and reached over to squeeze Joey's hand. 

* * *

Ashley blinked, wondering if she had fallen asleep and was still asleep. "Dad?" She moved nearer to the bed and watched his hand. "Daddy?"  
  
It moved. And then his eyes fluttered open.  
  
She gasped and then started to laugh and cry. "I'm going to get the doctor."  
  


*****

"Maggie…" He gulped before struggling to speak again. "I would like to talk to Pacey alone."  
  
Pacey looked up from his corner in surprise. He exchanged glances with his mother who told him in her eyes not to let his father tire himself out, in spite of what he may say.  
  
"Come on," she gestured to the rest of her children. "We'll wait outside."  
  
With only the two of them in the room, the awkwardness grew. Pacey didn't know what to say to a man who had just suffered from a major heart attack and had been in a coma. Well, he never knew what to say to his father most of the time anyway.  
  
"How you feeling?"  
  
"Like a truck ran over me," he joked in a weak voice. He tried to follow on with a short laugh but it hurt to do so and it came out as a cough instead.   
  
Pacey picked up the glass from the table and positioned the straw to his mouth. "Pop, here, drink some water."  
  
As John Witter laid back on his pillow, he took in the sight of his son standing before him. He was happy Pacey had come home.   
  
"You look like you've got older."  
  
Pacey smiled. "Pop, I'm almost thirty-one."  
  
"It's not that. You look tired too."  
  
"It's the work. A little bit of New York as well." He made a move toward the door. "I should leave you to rest."  
  
"No," insisted John, his voice surprisingly strong. "We need to talk."  
  


*****

"We need to talk."  
  
"Now?" Greg asked, handing the clipboard back to the nurse.   
  
"It's important."  
  
He led her away to an empty examination room and waited for her to speak.  
  
She took a deep breath. "Greg-"  
  
"Greg!" Another doctor had called out urgently from around the corner. "We need you!" His grave face appeared in the doorway. "Mother and child in an automobile accident. Doesn't look good."  
  
"Go on," Joey urged, following him out the room.  
  
"Okay," Greg said as he turned, already halfway down the hall. "But don't wait up. I have the late shift."  
  
She managed a small wave of acknowledgement before he disappeared into the chaos.  
  


*****

"I'm proud of you. Of the boy you were and of the man you've become."  
  
Pacey remained silent.   
  
"I feel it's important you know this."   
  
Pacey switched his attention to the low sounds of people talking outside before he spoke quietly. "Did you ever hate me?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"You once told Doug you were glad that at least you had him," he said, not looking at his father. "I felt unwanted." He turned his head to face him. "Unneeded in this family still. I've been feeling like this for a long, long time."  
  
"Pacey," John's voice shook. "I'm sorry."  
  
"And it hurt even more to find out that I might not be your son." He got up from the chair on which he had been sitting. "I'm thirty years old and I've never felt I belong." Pacey kept calm the whole time he was speaking but his father could see the tears in his son's eyes through his own, threatening to fall.  
  
"You _belong_. To us. Your Mom and I were so happy the day you were born. It was me, my mistake. My fault."  
  
"Pop, you should rest." Pacey changed the subject and went to open the door a notch, ready to let his mother in.  
  
"Will you forgive me?"   
  
He paused in his step. "I'll be by to see you tomorrow," was all he would say before leaving.  
  


*****

He spent the rest of the evening on the front porch in the family home, looking out into the darkness until he was interrupted by a phone call.  
  


*****

That fateful night, John Witter was declared by the doctor to be brain-dead, the rest of him kept alive only by artificial means. His body had decided that its time was up and he fell into yet another deep sleep. Except this time, he wasn't going to wake up. One by one, his family took turns to say their private good-byes before the machine would be switched off.  
  
His youngest son walked slowly into the dimly lit room. He knew his father couldn't hear him but he kept his footsteps light as though afraid of rousing him from his peace. He got to his side and kissed his forehead. He then took his hand and fell to the floor on his knees. "Yes," he whispered as his tears fell freely down his face. "Yes, I forgive you." With that, his face dropped to his father's shoulder and he cried openly as though a part of himself had been ripped from his body.

* * *

She was determined to tell him the truth today. Since that day at the hospital, they both hadn't had a chance to be in the same room long enough to have a proper conversation. When she was up and at work, he was sleeping like a baby. And by the time she got back from the office, he was already at the hospital, slogging through another 18-hour shift.  
  
She didn't even know what it was that she wanted to say to Greg. All she knew was that _this_ couldn't go on any further. She felt like she was on the brink of going crazy.  
  
She had agreed to meet him during his short lunch break and she was about to leave when Grace put a call through.   
  
"Joey, this sounds important."  
  
"It's okay. I'll take it." She picked up the receiver. "Joey Potter."  
  
"Joey." The person on the other end sounded soft and hoarse, as though she had been crying.  
  
"Ashley?"  
  
Joey listened as Ashley related her reason for calling. "He's taking this really hard. I think it might help if he were around his friends."  
  
"I'll be there," Joey replied without hesitation.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"I'm so sorry, Ashley."

* * *

It was drizzling harder by the second when she got there. She saw him standing in the cemetery, staring into space and oblivious of the raindrops pelting down against him.   
  
She neared him and raised her umbrella to shelter him from getting any wetter. He continued to stare off into his imaginary spot. Finally, he spoke.  
  
"When we were kids, Mom used to play bridge on Thursdays and everyone but me would be out. Pop would come home from work and we'd sit in front of the TV, eating cold spaghetti from saucepans. I always looked forward to Thursdays. I would run home as quickly as I could after school and wait for the sound of him entering the front door. That was the only time when things seemed…good."  
  
Her eyes watered. She felt the pain in his words and her heart broke. "I wanted to be here for you, to help you understand."  
  
He turned to her, his eyes almost pleading for a reason. "So help me," his voice begged.  
  
"It didn't mean you loved him any less, not being by his side."  
  
"But I should have been!" he cried out angrily into the rain. "I should have been home those times he asked!" He broke down in tears. "We spent more time apart than we ever did together."  
  
The tears fell freely down her face. "If you didn't love him enough, didn't love him when you weren't there…you wouldn't be feeling so empty right now and it wouldn't hurt to take just a breath."  
  
He brought his hands up to cover his face as he wept.  
  
She dropped the umbrella and wrapped him in her arms. "He understood, Pacey," she told him, hugging him tightly in an attempt to bear the brunt of his pain. "He understood."  
  


*****

The sky cleared up in time for the service and throughout, she held onto his hand. When it was over, he smiled sadly back at her. "Thank you," he said and gave her hand a squeeze before letting go of it. She watched him as he was stopped by relatives and friends and offered condolences and managed to feel a tad of genuine joy when she saw her old friends approaching him. He hugged them both and Jen decided to walk with him and his mother back to the car while Dawson made his way toward her.  
  
"Hey there, stranger," he said before taking her in his arms.  
  
"Hey," she whispered.   
  
"You look exhausted," he added after he had a chance to take a good look at her.   
  
"You could lie to me and tell me I look terrific."   
  
He smiled. "Wanna go?  
  
"Wait," she replied. "There's some place I want to visit first."  
  


*****

She stood at her mother's grave, silently asking her for advice. _Am I about to do the right thing, Mom? Please tell me._  
  
Dawson put his hand around her shoulder and hugged her to him. "Are you all right?"  
  
"No, not really," she admitted.  
  
A few moments passed. "I knew, Joey," he said.  
  
She looked at him blankly.  
  
"How you and Pacey felt about each other."  
  
"You knew?" she asked in surprise.  
  
"It wasn't very difficult. But I chose not to see it."  
  
"Dawson-"  
  
"I was shocked, Joey but I wasn't angry. I won't deny it hurt like hell for a long time, seeing you look at him the way you used to look at me."  
  
Her troubled eyes reflected her distress.  
  
"You don't know if you should marry Greg," he read her thoughts.  
  
"Tell me what to do."  
  
"I can't do that," he replied, grazing her face with the back of his hand. "Ultimately, it's something you have to decide on your own."  
  
"I can't do this." She shook her head, her voice quivering and she leaned into his offer of open arms and rested the side of her face on his shoulder. "Not by myself."  
  
"Oh Joey," he said, "You once told me that life's all about changes." He stroked her hair. "It's only hurting because you already know what to do."  
  


*****

Dawson drove them back to the Witters' in his rental car and Jen was the first to greet them at the door.  
  
"Hey, you holding up fine?" she asked Joey.  
  
Joey nodded slightly. "How have you been?"  
  
They settled themselves down on the chairs in the kitchen before Jen answered.  
  
"Henry and I just bought a house down in Connecticut. We'll be moving in the fall."  
  
Joey couldn't help but break into a grin.   
  
"What?"  
  
"I was just thinking about something I told Dawson when you first came to Capeside."  
  
Jen raised her brows. "Nothing horrible, I hope."  
  
"I did tell him that you were going to lead a life of perfect existence in suburban Connecticut, raising three perfect children."  
  
"Well," Jen drawled on cautiously, "You're only half right. It's not in the suburbs and I only have two children."  
  
"And what does your husband do for a living?" Joey asked knowingly.  
  
"He's a banker," she replied, almost reluctantly.  
  
"I think I made my point sufficiently to Dawson."  
  
They both laughed but turned somber within seconds when they remembered what it was that brought them back here in the first place.  
  
"Where are your twins?"  
  
"I left them with Grams. They're teething and they're irritable. So they're not exactly perfect at this moment."  
  
Joey shook her head in light humor at Jen's lame attempt to refute the prediction made about her.  
  
"Enough about me. How's the wedding coming along?" Jen was not prepared for the look that passed Joey's face before she evaded her gaze awkwardly. "Did I say something wrong?"  
  
Her question was never answered.

* * *

She was sitting on the front steps when he came to sit beside her. It felt almost like old times except nothing was quite the same.  
  
"You can stay, you know."  
  
"Thanks," she said, biting on her lower lip. "But there's something I need to get back to."  
  
He nodded in understanding. "The wedding," he said softly.   
  
She twisted her hands in her lap and focused on her shoes, unable to tell him. She only looked up when she heard her cab arrive.  
  
She got to her feet. "My ride's here." She didn't know what else to say.  
  
"Hang on," he said, lightly grabbing her elbow to stall her. He straightened and his eyes bored into hers. "I'm not going to make it for the wedding. I'm sorry."  
  
A part of her longed to tell him the truth, the truth of what she was going to do. But the timing was all wrong.   
  
"I don't know when I'll ever see you again," he mused ruefully. "I wish you every happiness in the world. You deserve it." He leaned forward and planted a kiss at the corner of her mouth, which left her heart pining.  
  
"Goodbye, Joey."  
  
The finality of his words rang in her ears. Suddenly she wanted to hold on to him and never let go.   
  
"Goodbye," she heard herself say.  
  
She didn't remember getting into the cab or telling the driver her destination. She didn't remember leaving. All she could see in her mind was his solitary figure slowly fading from her view as she looked back through the glass.

* * *

_  
Please send feedback!_

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	8. One Hundred Tears Away

The Story of Us  
Chapter 8  
One Hundred Tears Away   
by: Jade 

* * *

  
**Author's Note****: The last (and probably the longest) chapter of this series and the last of the trilogy. It's been fantastic hearing from everyone. THANK YOU.  
  
I was watching TV as I was writing this and saw The Eurythmics singing _17 Again_ and it just gave me the idea of adding it into this chapter since it fitted so well. The lyrics are in "_[ ]"_ - imagine the song playing when you come to it.**

* * *

**"Go ahead and cry now  
Just give into the madness  
The only way to feel your joy  
Is first to feel your sadness…  
  
All of the happiness you seek  
All of the joy for which you pray  
Is closer than you think  
It's just 100 tears away"  
  
-'_100 Tears Away'_, Vonda Shepard**

  
It was raining cats and dogs by the time she touched down in New York and the rain didn't let up on the one-hour journey back to the apartment. Having made a mad dash for shelter indoors from where the cab stopped her, she wiped her face and shook her coat of water droplets.  
  
She was expecting to come home to an empty apartment so it was quite a bit of a surprise as she turned the key in its lock and opened the door, only to be met by the sight of him seated on the armchair deep in his thoughts.  
  
"Greg, what are you doing home?"  
  
He looked up from his hands and smiled but it never quite reached his eyes. "It's time for that talk," he said.  
  


*****

The first and only time she told him about Pacey, she said that he was an old friend and didn't elaborate on how much he had meant to her. Greg deserved the truth now.  
  
"Were you in love with him?"  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"It's a simple question, Joey."  
  
"Yes, I was."  
  
"_Are_ you in love with him?"  
  
She took a deep, silent breath before answering. "Yes."  
  
He shut his eyes and kept them closed. When he opened them again, Joey was all prepared for whatever he might say to her that stemmed from being hurt and deceived.  
  
"We lost each other somewhere along the way." His tone was even, his demeanor composed. "Somehow we've become more like friends than lovers."  
  
She hadn't been prepared for him to admit that openly.  
  
"I still love you but I don't want to be someone that a girl-," he broke off, holding her gaze, "-settles for."  
  
The torrent of feelings combined - guilt, relief, gratitude, love and admiration for the man before her - left her lower lip quivering and her eyes moist.  
  
"This is going to be the main course at the gossip tables for awhile."  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"Don't worry, I've been the subject of scandal before." he joked, "I'm used to it." His weak laugh died down and he added seriously, "I'll tell my parents that the wedding's off. Mother will take care of everything."   
  
"Thank you," she replied, quietly standing up. "I'll pack a bag for the night and I'll be by tomorrow to pick up the rest of my things." Sliding off the ring on her finger, she handed it to him.  
  
He took it without looking at her and nodded his head in agreement.  
  
She was packed and nearly out the doorway when she turned back. She had been afraid that Greg would recoil from her touch if she reached to hug him but she took a chance.  
  
His gesture was hesitant; he kept one hand by his side but he touched her hair lightly in return with the other.   
  
Her heart warmed at his reaction and she pulled away slowly. She smiled gratefully, picked up her bag and left.

* * *

"Pacey, you do realize that the only reason you're still in employment at my firm is because of the revenue you brought in from the Branden works, right?"  
  
"Yes, I do."  
  
"I'm sorry for all that has happened to you but you have to get back to work soon."  
  
"Give me another week."  
  
"Pacey, it's been five weeks."  
  
"One more week, David. I promise. And then I'll fly my butt back to New York."  
  
"Just one more," his boss reluctantly agreed.

* * *

From across the street, she pushed her sunglasses further up the bridge of her nose and stepped aside from the middle of the curb to give way to the pedestrians behind her. She had just been to see a client and was getting back to the office when she caught sight of the crowd outside the restaurant and was distracted.  
  
Watching out for oncoming traffic, she quickly crossed to the other side and slowly walked up to the front of the line.  
  
"You got a reservation, ma'am?"  
  
She shook her head at the waiter and smiled her thanks. Behind her dark shades, her eyes told a different sentiment as she sadly reminisced about those days that they had worked together on the place. On a professional level, she was extremely proud of her work. On a personal one, she was far from feeling the same at how she handled the situation.  
  
She rounded the corner and walked straight into someone. Her briefcase went flying out of her hand.  
  
"I am so sorry," the man apologized and hurriedly bent to pick up the documents that had fallen out of the leather bag.  
  
She beamed instead. "Greg?"  
  
He looked up, squinting at the sun in his eyes. "Joey," he chuckled.  
  
She bent to help him and they quickly gathered the papers strewn on the ground before someone stepped on them or the wind blew them away.  
  
He handed a pile over to her and she put it together with the one she had and dumped them into the briefcase.  
  
He waited for her to straighten before asking, "Headed back to the office?"  
  
"Yeah," she said, clasping her bag shut. "And you?"  
  
"I'm meeting someone for lunch."  
  
"In that case, I shouldn't take up any more of your time."  
  
"It's okay," he insisted. "She called to say she'll be late." He glanced at his watch. "What do you say to a quick drink and chat at the bar?"  
  
She really had no reason to turn him down. "Sure."  
  
"Come on then, I've got a reservation." He led her back to where she had come from.  
  
"You made reservations here?"  
  
"My friend loves the food." His eyes brightened. "And the décor's great."  
  
She smiled in response.  
  


*****

"So the hospital in Philadelphia wants me in charge of their ER and I'm considering it."  
  
"That's great. Isn't it?"  
  
He shrugged. "I don't know. Except for college, I've been here my whole life. I would hate to leave this place."  
  
She raised her brow. "And?" she probed.  
  
"What 'and'?"  
  
"I sense an 'and'."  
  
"And," he gave in, "I met this girl."  
  
She was truly happy to hear that. "The one you're meeting?"  
  
He nodded. "Her name's Gwen. She's a lawyer."  
  
Joey couldn't help laughing. "I can't imagine you with a lawyer."  
  
"Neither could I," he grinned. "But she's great." His voice drifted off but the spark remained in his eyes. "We've only been out a couple of times but I like her. A lot."  
  
"Does she know about Philly?"  
  
"That's why I arranged to meet her for lunch." The corners of his mouth dropped to a slight frown. "Do you think this is crazy, feeling like that about someone you've only just met and how prepared you are to give up the job of a lifetime for her?"  
  
"Greg, if I've learned anything over the last fifteen years of my life, it's that time doesn't warrant a place when it comes to feeling a certain way about someone. It could take you six weeks or six years to find love but when you do, it can also be taken away from you in a second."  
  
He held her gaze for a long moment. "Can I ask you a question?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"What was it that caused you and Pacey to break up that first time?"  
  
She hesitated. "Things were just impossible. Andie and Dawson-"  
  
"I know what you told me," he gently interrupted. "But it's not what I'm hearing." He leaned in nearer to her. "We're still friends, right?"  
  
"Of course," she replied softly.  
  
"And friends tell each other what they honestly think, don't they?"  
  
Her gaze fell.  
  
"Those years ago, you made the decision on your own to leave him because you felt it would be the best for everyone that way. But it wasn't. Not for him, not for you."  
  
"I didn't know what else to do."  
  
"And that's alright, Joey. It isn't always about knowing what to do but it is about fairness."  
  
"Fairness?"  
  
"You've made the decision again to leave because somehow you think he'd be better off without you but you're not being fair to yourself. Love is a gift but it isn't always about selflessness. It's given to you but you'll have to grab on to it tightly to keep it."  
  
She lifted her hand to cover her face.  
  
"Let him make the choices this time, Joey."  
  
He reached for her hand and she held on to it. Her lashes were wet when her eyes fluttered open. "I didn't deserve you," she lamented.  
  
"My grandmother hates you." She let out a quiet cry of embarrassment in response to what he said. "But hey, given another chance, I would still have wanted to be here for you."  
  
She reached to embrace him. "Thank you for forgiving me," she whispered.  
  
They pulled apart and he squeezed her hands reassuringly. He gave her a napkin and she started to wipe her tears away. He looked over her shoulder and his face lit up. "Come on," he said, "I want you to meet Gwen."  
  
Gwen was a lovely light brown-haired woman with big, kind green eyes and an engaging smile that reflected for him, undoubtedly, the exact emotions Greg felt for her.  
  
She left and walked out of the restaurant. As she looked back at them for the last time before rounding the corner again, a smile drifted across her face.

* * *

"I'm sorry, Miss Potter. Mr. Witter hasn't been to the office for nearly six weeks now."  
  
"I really need to see him. Is there someone he might have spoken to recently?"  
  
"Well, I suppose he would have called Mr. Jameson. He's in a meeting but just one moment, I'll let his secretary know that you're here."  
  
She fidgeted uncomfortably as the receptionist announced her presence to the other party over the intercom. She decided to make a trip to his office in favor of a simple phone call for fear that he might leave if she gave him notice of her coming over before she had a chance to say what she needed to say.   
  
"One second, Miss Potter. Mr. Jameson will be right with you."  
  
She paced a couple more times before she was met by the latter at the front desk.  
  
"Joey, it's been a long time. What can I do for you?"  
  
"I'm sorry for just dropping by like this but I need to know where Pacey is."  
  
Jameson frowned. "I don't think I'm going to be able to help you there. All I know is that he promised he'd be back by Monday. Maybe you could-"  
  
"It'll be too late," she said, her tone almost desperate. "Thank you anyway."  
  


*****

"I went to his office but he wasn't there and then I called your Mom and she said that he had already left -"  
  
"Joey, slow down."  
  
"Ashley, did he tell you where he was going?"  
  
"As a matter of fact, he did. He was supposed to be onboard a flight last night but he said something about changing his plans. He was going to make a detour and take the scenic view. If any of this makes sense to you. He mentioned renting a car and was leaving first light the next day. I couldn't quite hear him with the noise in the background."   
  
She deliberated over what she had just been told.  
  
"Is there something I should know about?"  
  
"How far is it from the airport to Boston?"  
  
"Hmm, five or six hours I guess."  
  
"And then it'll take him another hour," Joey mumbled. She glanced up at the clock in her office and mentally calculated the time she had left. She could still catch him up.  
  
"I've got to run. There's something I should have done a long time ago."  
  
"Wh-"  
  
"I'm going after him, Ashley."  
  
The smile in the latter's voice was visible as she spoke. "Good luck, Joey."  
  


*****

"Okay, the cab will be here in two minutes."  
  
Joey was throwing together days' worth of clothing and necessities together into makeshift luggage in a record time as her roommate kept talking.  
  
"And Grace called to say that she got you a first class seat on the 12:30 out to Boston. Get the ticket at the airline service counter when you reach LaGuardia."  
  
She hurried out of the room, tagged behind by Daphne who nearly fell over when she turned around suddenly.  
  
"What would I do without you?" Joey said, hugging her.  
  
"I'm used to running frantically around on my days off anyway." Daphne held her friend's face in her hands. "You go do what you have to do."  
  
"Wish me luck."  
  
"Luck."

* * *

The sound of the car door shutting was heightened by the quiet by which he was surrounded. He closed his eyes, took several deep breaths and allowed the breeze to wash over his face. He could smell the sunshine and the green grass. He could hear the birds and the wind singing softly in his ear. And the house still stood proudly as it did having weathered years of changes.  
  
He made his way in the direction of the reason he was here, glad that it seemed the place's beauty was yet unknown and untouched by the masses. __

_[Yay though we venture through   
The Valley of the stars   
You and all your jewelry   
And my bleeding heart] _

In his mind, he saw her laughing as he tackled her to the ground.

_[Who couldn't be together   
And who could not be apart]_

_  
_He recalled the way she smiled at him that tugged at his heart as he leaned down to kiss her.__

_[We should've jumped out   
Of that airplane after all   
Flying skyways overhead   
It wasn't hard to fall]_

_I feel **nothing** for you_, she had said. He could never forget the day she made up her mind to end what little they had with these five words.

_[And I had so many crashes   
That I couldn't feel   
At all…]_

And he was reminded of the day he saw her again and learned that she was soon to be married…_Goodbye, Joey, _he had said_. _And she had left.__

_[And it feels  
Like I'm seventeen again  
Feels like I'm seventeen]_

  
He spotted the tree and stopped. He remained standing where he was as though afraid that his weak resolve wouldn't allow him to simply be satisfied with what he came for once he got it. It would make it impossible for him to climb back out if he should fall into the metaphorical hole he had been so careful to tread around.  
  
He turned around to leave. Paused. And then he turned back.   
  
_What the hell_, he thought. He caught partial sight of the plaque hidden beneath grass and his gaze fell onto the large rock not far from the tree. He moved it aside and fell to his knees, ready to remove the dirt with his hands. But as he surveyed the area closer, he realized that it looked like the spot had been freshly dug.  
  
He felt a tremor go through him. It was as if his heart intuitively knew of her presence even before it registered through his senses.  
  
Behind him, she had appeared. "You can't have those beads."  
  
He slowly stood up, his back still to her.  
  
"They were given to me by someone I love very much."  
  
He imagined that he had to be dreaming; the apparition continued to speak.  
  
"On the way here, I must have played this scene at least a hundred times in my head. I would walk up to you and tell you that my future is my past-"  
  
He finally turned around.  
  
"-that I loved you then and I love you now.  
  
She moved toward him, leaving a distance of about five feet between them. " It would be entirely up to you to make the decision. I just had to tell you the truth."  
  
He stared at her, not a flicker of emotion on his face.   
  
Her initial courage faded and her hands shook even more as she accepted her defeat. Crestfallen, she answered softly to his non-verbal response, "Okay." She turned to go but was stopped by his hoarse voice.  
  
"You've played this scene in your head a hundred times." He closed the rest of the distance that separated them. Threading his fingers through her hair, he framed her face between his hands. "Tell me how it ends."  
  
She choked back a sob. "I would try to walk away if you said no but I know I would come running back, hoping you'd say yes."  
  
"Yes," he whispered.  
  
Her tears started to fall fast. "And I would start crying," she managed to say before her voice was quivering too much to speak.  
  
"And I would kiss you," he continued, leaning forward, gently planting one on her lips. "And tell you I never stopped loving you."  
  
She could barely bite back a cry of relief as she buried her face in his neck and wetted it with her tears in the process. He bore her weight with his hands wound around her waist and rested his cheek lightly on the side of her head, his own eyes wet. "I love you," he kept saying as though he was trying to assure himself that she was real.  
  


* * *

* * *

_Pacey_.  
  
He heard the shadow calling his name. He muttered something unintelligible and faded back into darkness until a sudden light blinded him. He groaned in protest and reached over for another pillow to cover his face with.  
  
Sighing, she moved away from the drapery and went to sit by him on the bed. "Honey," she said, shaking him.  
  
He relented and removed the pillow, taking a peek with one eye closed. The other eye opened at the pretty picture she painted with her thigh against his and her robe coming loose.   
  
"Now that's a mighty fine woman." He grinned sleepily. "I was just dreaming about you."  
  
Joey shook her head, laughing. "Come on," she urged. She managed to pull him halfway up by his arm but then she lost her grip when he used his other arm to tug at her. She fell on top of him and they landed back on the bed with a thud and she chuckled. She managed to wipe the smirk off his face when she leaned in closer and kissed him, occupying his thoughts for a good twenty seconds.  
  
"Hmm," he said when they finally pulled apart.  
  
"Honey, we don't want to be late."  
  
He was spared from protesting about having inadequate sleep from working late the night before by footsteps running into their bedroom.  
  
"Daddy!"  
  
Their small bundle of joy in pajamas climbed up to the bed and jumped right on top of them.  
  
He got the wind slightly knocked out of him. "Whoa, how's my girl this morning?"  
  
His four-and-a-half-year-old daughter giggled excitedly, her hands waving in the air. "Mommy says we're going to see Allison and Peter today." At the mention of the last name, she giggled some more and turned slightly red.  
  
He raised a questioning eyebrow at his wife.  
  
"Our daughter's got a little crush on Jen's son," she said into his ear.  
  
"Mommy!" came the childish cry, objecting at the revelation of her secret.  
  
He laughed. "Okay Mandy, go get changed and we can leave soon."  
  
Amanda gave her father a peck and scuttled off the bed and ran off to her room, eager to be ready so that they could get to Peter's house as soon as possible.  
  
"Is it me," he asked smiling widely, "or does it seem like kids are getting crushes much earlier these days?"  
  
She smiled back.   
  
"I mean, I didn't even get my first crush until I met you. And I was what, nine?"  
  
"Mommmmy! Dadddddy!"  
  
They exchanged amused looks at their daughter's eagerness to get them out of the house and Pacey reluctantly obliged, taking Joey's hand as she pulled him to his feet.   
  


*****

It took them slightly over two hours to drive to Connecticut. They weren't the first to arrive - Dawson had flown in from San Diego the night before and had been an overnight guest at Jen's.  
  
Amanda was out of the car the minute her father stopped it. The twins were waiting for her to play in the garden.   
  
Dawson met them halfway in the driveway and grabbed them both in an embrace. "I want you guys to meet Annabelle once we get back," he said, as they made their way to the house. "I think she could be the one."  
  
"Dawson, are you sure this time?" Joey kidded.  
  
He gaped at her. "Josephine Po -Witter," he corrected, "was that a deliberate joke about old times?"  
  
Pacey chortled.  
  
"Come on, Dawson, you know you've been saying that about every other woman you've stuck with for more than two months at a time," Joey continued, completely amused. Jen appeared at the doorway and she left them behind to go greet her.  
  
"You know D, I've never figured you for a ladies' man."  
  
"And Pace, I never figured you'd end up marrying the girl of my dreams," he retorted.  
  
They stared at each other and broke into smiles simultaneously.   
  
"Come on," Dawson said, putting his arm around his other best friend.

* * *

Jack and Andie arrived an hour later, exhausted but happy to be there. Joey was afraid that things would be awkward between Andie, Pacey and herself, especially since the last time they heard from her was just before they got married. Andie's job as a book editor had prevented her from being at the wedding as she had to be in London but she called them the minute she got to her hotel.   
  
"Congratulations. You may not believe it but I really wanted to be there."  
  
"I know, Andie."  
  
"You're a lucky girl, Joey."  
  
"Yes, I am." He was standing not far from her. She removed her fingers from the tangled telephone coil and reached for his fingers, squeezing them. He squeezed hers back.  
  
"Have a wonderful time tomorrow. You're going to make a beautiful bride."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
That was the last conversation they shared in six years. Now seeing her again, Joey didn't know quite how to react. But Andie took care of that.  
  
"Joey," she said, wrapping her arms around her warmly. She did the same to Pacey and he returned her gesture affectionately. "McPhee, what have you been up to?"  
  
And at that moment, she became the Andie they knew so well. She jumped back excitedly and waved her hand in the air.  
  
"I got married last week!"  
  
"What?" they asked in unison.  
  
"I had been dating this author for nearly a year and last weekend, I went to Las Vegas to see him on his book tour. He proposed to me and I said yes. It was the most impulsive thing I'd ever done!"  
  
"It's the _only_ impulsive thing you've ever done," Jack said, coming up from behind her.  
  
Andie boxed him in the arm playfully.  
  
Jack was currently single after a two-year relationship that soured and ended last summer when he came home early from work one day and walked in on his lover with another man. "I'm staying off serious relationships for awhile," he had told them.  
  
"Did you two get in together?" Dawson asked.  
  
"We arranged it so that our flights would arrive more or less the same time," Jack explained. "Saved me from paying the cab fare."  
  
Andie rolled her eyes.  
  


*****

While the kids ran all over the place with a couple of the neighbors' children, the adults sat outdoors around a big table filled with food, talking and reminiscing about old times and newer ones. The hours got later and the sky got darker. Pretty soon, the children were yawning.   
  
Amanda was sharing the room with Allison for the night and she lay ready for bedtime beneath the covers whilst waiting for her parents to tuck her in.  
  
Pacey kissed her forehead. "Goodnight, baby."  
  
"Goodnight, Daddy."  
  
"Goodnight, sweetie," Joey said, kissing her and bringing the blanket up to her chin.  
  
"Goodnight, Mommy."  
  
Jen had just tucked her daughter in and was on her way to her son's room to do the same. Henry had done it the other way round and now sat by Allison, with a book open on his lap.  
  
"You guys go ahead. I'll just read the girls a story and I'll be right down."  
  
They nodded and left him to enchant the children.  
  
"Not bad for a banker," Pacey joked.  
  
"You're not so bad yourself," she said, leaning her head on his shoulder and holding on to his waist as they made their way downstairs. "I love you," she mumbled.  
  
"Love you too," he replied.  
  
The rest of them had already started a fire outside and was surrounding it, passing around hot cups of cocoa to keep warm.  
  
"It's been a great day," Andie quipped. Pacey and Joey joined them and was soon followed by Jen.  
  
"Henry's just enthralling the girls with his storytelling skills," she said.  
  
And they came to be together, like they had so many years ago. They sat, smiling at each other, remembering what it was like to be sixteen, to be pulled apart by differing ideals but bonded in spirit by the magic of youth.   
  
"We may have gone separate ways, down different paths but every now and then, we'll meet again somewhere in between." Dawson raised his mug in a toast. "Here's to us."  
  
"Ditto that," Jack echoed and everyone raised their cups to one another's in a salute to a long-lasting friendship.

* * *

_Please send feedback. On to Epilogue..._

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	9. Epilogue

The Story of Us  
Epilogue   
by: Jade 

* * *

  
When the two of them started spending a weekend here and there at the quiet Massachusetts lake where a friend had a tiny cottage, they had both often been bogged down by work in the week and needed to relax. And often they wouldn't get there until midnight on a Friday.  
  
Years passed and the kids grew up. They had more weekends to themselves and they began to spend more time at their cedar house on the water that they had purchased. One summer, he bought an old motorboat and they rode along the shoreline, taking in the breathtaking sights. The place was surrounded by big, old trees and the land sloped gently down to the shore. It was perfect.  
  
They never knew that summers could be so good. He would get up before light to go fishing and she'd sleep until the birds woke her up. And he'd make breakfast and they would sit on the deck eating omelets.   
  
They got to know the grocer and the butcher who smoked his own bacon. And the chipmunks and squirrels that resided close by and a woodpecker that took over their biggest tree.  
  
She loved sunsets. It was the best part of the day. They'd always be ready to watch the sun go down, changing the color of the lake from blue to purple, to silver and black.   
  
She didn't like October very much. Even with all the beautiful colors and warmth from the fireplace, she was a summer person at heart. The cold wind wasn't her friend. So in November they would take the hammock down, lock everything up and drive back to the city. But the minute the ice on the lake melted, spelling the start of spring, they would be right back. She'd throw open the windows to let in the fresh air and greet the birds, chipmunks and squirrels.  
  
With each summer gone, the sunsets seemed more spectacular and beautiful. And more precious. Then one weekend, he went down alone to close the place down for the winter.  
  
He worked quickly, trying not to think that this particular chair had been her favorite. He tried not to remember as he took down the hammock that she had given to him one Christmas. And most of all, he tried to forget that the house on the lake had been his gift to her.  
  
He didn't work quickly enough and he was still there at sunset. It was just perfect, the color of orange that she loved. He tried but he couldn't watch it. Not alone. Not through tears. So he turned his back on it, went inside, drew the draperies, locked the door and drove away.  
  
Later there would be a "for sale" sign out front. Maybe a couple who loved to watch sunsets would buy the house. He hoped so.  
  
  


* * *

_I came across a memorial entitled "House On The Lake" in "Reader's Digest" longtime Chicago newspaper columnist Mike Royko, wrote and dedicated to his first wife, Carol, who died in 1979. Mike Royko himself died in 1997. I was completely touched and blown away by the simplicity and yet, depth of it. The epilogue above was **adapted** from what I read and re-read, over and over again. Should anyone have a problem with copyrights and such, I will take this down immediately.  
  
You have arrived at the end of the trilogy which spanned three series, "Long Ago…", "This Is When It All Began" and "The Story of Us". Thank you for reading._

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End file.
